


Ringmaster

by crazywriterperson



Category: Original Work
Genre: A+ Parenting, Blood, Carnival, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, journey of self-discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazywriterperson/pseuds/crazywriterperson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alex got on the plane back to Ann Arbor after winter break, he expected it to be a quiet flight that he'd probably spend sleeping. He did not expect to find himself at a strange carnival with a peculiar Ringmaster who told him that the only way to leave is to jump through a number of hoops. In order to find his way out, Alex must confront people and events from his past and present that he'd rather forget, things that hurt and helped shape him into the man he is today. Will Alex be able to find his way out? Who is the strange Ringmaster? And who's that girl he keeps seeing out of the corner of his eye?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ringmaster

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this piece for over four years and I've finally gotten the courage up to post it. I know there are some problems in it, but I decided that it was time to post it. If I've forgotten to tag something, please let me know and I will go back and add that tag. It's been a while since I've posted anywhere, so I'm probably a little rusty, especially when it comes to tagging things.

_“Passengers of flight 231 from New York to Ann Arbor please prepare to board.”_

Alex looked up from the game on his phone. The gate he sat in was mostly empty; not many people were headed to Ann Arbor, where Alex’s university was. Winter holidays were meant to be spent with family and, in Alex’s experience most people went to Michigan instead of New York—where Alex’s family lived. Honestly, the only thing he was looking forward to about going back to college was seeing Steph, his girlfriend, after being apart for over a month.

An elderly couple across from him started gathering their carry-ons and he followed suit. Alex shoved his phone into his back pocket to free his hand, bending to grab the backpack at his feet. However, when he heard the sound of children’s laughter, he blinked. There hadn’t been any kids near the gate. He looked up and his backpack fell from his fingers with a thump and the clink of glass as the vials in the backpack knocked together.

A swarm of somewhat-transparent children rushed toward the gate doors. A man in an electric blue shirt and cap stood nearby, taking something red from each of the children. Alex couldn’t see the papers clearly, but he thought he saw black on the papers. A young girl trailed at the pack of the pack, her chestnut-colored hair pulled into two braids, a bright red balloon hovering above her head. She turned toward Alex and waved.

He stared, unable to believe what was happening, before waving back. She beamed, pleased by the acknowledgement. Alex lowered his hand before pinching himself on the arm. Pain bloomed at the spot, telling him that this wasn’t a dream, and he squeezed my eyes shut. What the hell was happening? He opened his eyes; the children and then man had disappeared, leaving no sign they’d ever been there in the first place. Was he hallucinating or something?

The thought scared him and he tightened his grip on the duffle bag. All his psych textbooks said hallucinations were not good signs at all. Alex rubbed his arm, anxiety curdling his stomach as he threw his backpack over his shoulder. Had he eaten anything that had gone bad? Did he have a concussion from when he’d been knocked against the wall by his brother-in-law? Was something wrong with his meds? The possibilities flashed through his mind and Alex felt his throat tightening. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, keeping his eyes on the carpet below him as he walked. His knees shook, all but knocking together.  


But. Wait. He’d stayed up Skyping with Steph until three in the morning. That must be the reason: sleep deprivation. It probably didn’t help that his sleep schedule had been messed up because of winter break. Yeah, that was it. It had to be. No other explanation made sense. It soothed the anxiety inside him, easing his steps. It gave Alex the courage to look up from his feet, giving him enough time to stop before running into another passenger.

Alex fished around in the mesh side pocket of his duffle bag for his boarding pass. When he finally tugged it free of the elastic, he stared in shock before rubbing his eyes with a fist. The anxiety started building again the longer he looked at the strange sight. It had been replaced by a bright blue ticket. A yellow border surrounded white text proclaiming, “CLARKE & CARLYLE’S CIRCUS: Fun for all!” Beside the words, in the middle of the ticket, there was a grinning clown balancing on one foot holding a bunch of balloons. The clown’s grin caused him to shiver, but Alex thought it was familiar, like a memory caught in the cobwebs of my childhood. Like a nightmare that sent him running for his parents’ bed.

“Sir? Can I please scan your boarding pass?” the clerk at the desk asked, holding a hand out toward Alex.

Alex jerked. “My boarding pass?” he said. “I think I printed out the wrong….” He trailed off and stared at the paper in his hand. But there it was in his hand: just a boarding pass. “Chert voz’mi?” he muttered under his breath. _What the hell?_

The clerk blinked but scanned the paper. “Have a good flight, sir?” he said.

Alex smiled and, despite himself, preened as he walked past the clerk. The movement caused the elastic and spandex of the binder he wore under his shirt to pull against his skin, but it was comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket with a favorite book. HE looked down at the page in his hand: still a boarding pass. His previous anxiety was starting to come back, causing shivers to run up his arms. It took some effort but Alex managed to push the boarding pass incident from his mind. _I’m gonna spend the entire flight napping. Clearly, I need it,_ he thought as he followed the other passengers down the hallway.

Alex stifled a yawn with his hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket. A new text message notification appeared on the screen; it must’ve gone off when he was dealing with the clerk. When he read the text, he grinned.

**Steph:**  
Have a safe flight,  
Alex. See you soon!  
<3

**Alex:**  
See you then! About  
to get on the plane so  
I gotta turn off my  
phone.

He sent the message before turning his phone on airplane mode and putting it back in his pocket. Being at home in upper Manhattan for a couple weeks had been a refreshing change from being in Michigan, even if it was stressful. Whenever Alex had vacation, he always stayed with his sister Jess and her husband and their father would come visit from New Jersey every few days. Whenever he stayed with them, he became the chief babysitter to Charlie, Jess’ kid, and she would ask all sorts of questions about Charlie. 

_Alex! Charlie picked up that toy dump-truck we got from Mark’s parents. Does that mean anything?_

_Charlie put on a nightgown instead of the onesie with feet, Alex. Is that important?_

_Alex, do you know why Charlie’s dragging that book about princesses around?_

_Alex?_

_Alex!_

Alex rubbed his temple, hoping to dislodge Jess’ voice. She meant well, she really did, and words couldn’t describe how pleased he was that she was actively trying to understand Charlie. But she didn’t seem to get that he don’t have the answers Jess wanted: only Charlie did. It didn’t stop her from all-but pouncing on him whenever Charlie did anything, however.

Still, as annoying as Jess could be, she was doing her best to understand, unlike their mother. Their mom, who loved forcing what she believed on them; that Jess needed to be the perfect daughter and that Alex… well, Alex had always been their mother’s problem child. Anything was better than her, but that didn’t mean he was Jess’ personal crystal ball for all things gender related. Even if he was getting a psychology degree and had personal experience with it.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the flight attendant said, drawing Alex out of his thoughts. “May I direct you to your seat?”  


He looked up and opened his mouth to speak, only to freeze. Powdery white make-up was caked on her face, her lips covered in fire-engine red. Swirling black designs lined her cheeks and arched toward her ears. Her chin and jaw were colored bright yellow and a red foam ball sat on her nose. He stumbled back a couple steps, a choked gasp escaping his throat. Alex blinked and rubbed his eyes with his fists again. When he pulled his fists back, the clown makeup had disappeared.

“Sir?” the woman asked, her curly red hair escaping its green ribbon.

“What?” Alex asked, heart pounded against his ribs. He clenched his hands into fists, nails biting into his skin. It helped steady him, but he still felt unsettled. What the hell?

She frowned. “Are you alright?” she asked. “May I direct you to your seat?”

Alex looked down at his ticket, watching the way his fingers crumpled the paper. “No, I think I’ve got it,” he said. The crinkle helped ground him, remind him that he was in fact on planet Earth and not in fucking Wonderland.

“Of course,” she replied, her PanAm smile back in place. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Have a good flight.”

Alex nodded and moved past her, thoughts racing. That was the third hallucination in less than an hour. This had never happened before and it made his heart flutter. As he walked to his seat, he tugged at the collar of his shirt again. If he’d had three in such quick succession, there had to be something else going on, right?

Upon reaching his seat, Alex put his backpack under the seat in front of him. He shoved the duffle bag into the overhead compartment, pressed up against another bag with bright balloons on it. Once his luggage was stowed, he flopped into his seat and buckled himself in. Since he was the last passenger on the place, the flight attendants began informing us about the safety instructions but he tuned them out.

A pair of green eyes flashed through his mind, their gaze cold. _“You’re in my world now. And you’ll never, ever get out,”_ a voice whispered in his ear, causing the hair on the back on his neck to raise. It sound so familiar, like a voice he’d heard from his closet as a child, like it was the source of all his fears as a boy. Okay, something was definitely wrong. Something more than sleep deprivation. When he got back to Ann Arbor, he’d have to go to the hospital to get check out.

A small voice in his head whispered that he should get help now, that this could be very serious. But Alex didn’t want to delay going back to campus. He just wanted to get home to Steph. Hospitals and him didn’t really get along well and going with someone familiar, someone he loved, would definitely help.

The airplane started to move along the runway, gathering speed. He gripped the armrests, taking a deep breath. Taking off wasn’t the best part of flight, but it’d better once they actually reached cruising altitude. His ears popped at the change in pressure, making him wince. He breathed out through his nose, tapping his fingers. _C’mon. C’mon. Tell me that I can get up._

After a few more tense minutes, the speaker crackled to life. “And now that we’ve reached cruising altitude, you’re free to move about the cabin,” the pilot said, voice broken by static.

Alex unbuckled his seatbelt and went straight for the restroom. The flight attendants wouldn’t be passing out drinks yet—it was too early in the flight—but maybe some cold water would help his twisting stomach. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind him. He rubbed his face and leaned against the door, trying to calm his racing heart.

_No luck,_ he thought, looking at his face in the mirror. Hazel eyes watched him, dark rings underneath them. Alex turned on the water and splashed some against his face. The cold water woke him up and he tilted his head back, feeling the droplets slide down his neck. They disappeared under his shirt, soaking into the skin-tight binder he wore. He patted his skin dry with a paper towel and ran his hand through his hair.

“I am definitely getting check out after this,” Alex muttered. “And Steph’s coming with me.” He lifted his head and his heart all but stopped when he saw green eyes staring at him from within the mirror. He jerked and whirled around, but he was alone in the bathroom. Of course he was. He’d locked the door. Great, now he was forgetting things that happened less than five minutes ago. He shook his head and clapped his hands against his face. He opened the door and stepped outside, letting the door slam behind him.

Alex froze.

“What the hell is going on?” he whispered.

Rickety booths, tents and rides loomed in front of him. Large red and white tents towered over smaller yellow and white ones. He could see a roller coaster in the distance, small carts zooming along shaky tracks. The scent of fairground food wafted toward him, sticky sweet and greasy all at once. When he looked behind him, he saw the plastic blue walls of a port-a-potty, even though he knew he should see the cramped plane bathroom.

“Chto yebat?” _What the fuck?_

“You look a little lost, kid.”

A man dressed in a ringmaster’s uniform—the red waistcoat, the white shirt and gloves, the black slacks and top hate, and a cane he tapped against the trampled grass—pushed himself away from the wooden ticket booth he leaned against. He strolled over to Alex, swinging the cane casually, light glinting off the reading glasses he wore. This strange Ringmaster looked familiar. There was something about his glasses and the lines of his face.

Alex didn’t respond, just turned around and stepped back inside the port-a-potty, slamming the door behind him. He sat down with a thud, head in his hands. Maybe this wasn’t the best reaction, but what else was he supposed to do? Stand outside and make nice with the strange Ringmaster? “What is going on?” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he would be back in the plane bathroom. If this was a hallucination, it was a very convincing one.

When Alex opened my eyes, he was still in the foul-smelling port-a-potty, the stench of excrement overwhelming the fairground food. He pinched himself on the arm, but instead of waking up, he just left a red mark on his forearm. “I’m going mad,” he whispered, staring down at the plastic floor. It looked real enough, but it couldn’t be. This was just a dream. It had to be.

Someone knocked on the door. “Are you going to stay in there forever?” an amused voice asked. “Because I don’t imagine that smells very good.”

Taking a deep breath—and regretting it almost immediately because of the smell—he pushed the door open. The Ringmaster stood in front of the port-a-potty, leaning on his cane and grinning at him. Alex scowled and stepped out of the port-a-potty.

“Glad to see you’ve finally decided to join us,” the Ringmaster said, stepping back and swinging his cane. “We’ve got lots to do and not a lot of time to do it.”

“Who the hell are you?” Alex demanded. “Actually, better question: where the hell am I?”

The Ringmaster grinned. “Why, I’m the Ringmaster here,” he said, sweeping a bow. He swept his hat off, revealing a shock of brown hair. “And you look lost.”

“I’m not lost,” Alex snapped, glaring at the Ringmaster and ignoring all the signs to the contrary. He wore eyeliner, he realized, tracing the dark lines around the Ringmaster’s eyes behind his glasses. It made his hackles raise. “I know where I’m supposed to be and this isn’t it.”

“And where are you supposed to be?”

“On a plane headed back to college,” Alex said. “Apparently I didn’t get enough sleep last night if I’m hallucinating this badly.”

The Ringmaster hummed, lifting his cane up. He held onto it with both hands, rolling it between his palms. “It sounds like you’re lost to me,” he said. “You’re supposed to be in one place, but you’re here instead. Isn’t that the definition of lost?”

Alex scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just tell me where I am!” he demanded. “Or, better yet, how to get out of this chertov place!”

“Ooh, you’re slipping into Russian,” the Ringmaster mused. “Which means you’re very annoyed at me. Do you grandparents know you swear in Russian? How do you think they would react if they knew you were using their native tongue for swearing?”

Alex paused, watching the Ringmaster. “How do you know that? How the hell do you know that?” he snapped. The fact that he swore in Russian wasn’t a secret—he did it all the time—but nobody knew who taught him. Only his family knew.

The Ringmaster put a gloved finger to his lips. “That’s a secret,” he sang, smirking.

“I don’t need to listen to this,” Alex growled, walking to the entrance. He didn’t really want to go inside, but he didn’t have a choice. There had to be someone in there who could help him. “You’re clearly a nutcase. I’ll just find someone else who can help me.”

“I’d be careful if I were you,” the Ringmaster called at his back. “Lots of things lurk inside that place just waiting to make people what they once were.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex said, turning back around. His heart pounded against his ribs. It felt like his undershirt was the only thing holding it inside his chest. “I’ve never been anything but myself.”

The Ringmaster laughed. “Oh really, _Lexi_?” he asked.

Alex gaped at the Ringmaster. Nobody called him that anymore; he’d made sure of it. Only one person tried to, but he’d cut her out of his life years ago. So how did this Ringmaster know that name?

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” the Ringmaster said and he was suddenly inches from his face. Alex jerked back a step and the Ringmaster didn’t follow him, giving him space. Apparently, he wanted to be courteous after getting into his personal space. That asshole. “To hear that name said out loud.”

“Because it’s not my name!” Alex snapped. his eyes drifted over to the entrance, which stood a couple yards away. The entrance didn’t look sparklingly clean, like the fairground was completely new. It had some wear and tear; there were some dusty, dingy parts, the white paint scuffed with dirt. Families crowded around the metal turnstiles, children tugging at their parents’ arms. He couldn’t hear the individual words, but the rumble of noise could be heard from where he stood. “My name is Alex, not Lexi. Alex, Lex, Alexander! Those are my names, not that!” The families paid no mind to his voice, instead focusing on the grounds before them.

The Ringmaster tipped his hat to Alex. “Oh believe me, I know your name,” he said.

Alex frowned, tipping his head to the side. “How do you know my name? I never said anything,” he said.

“Well,” the Ringmaster said. “You see—”

The ground underneath them shook and Alex fell, the breath flying out of his chest. The Ringmaster merely stood there, using his cane to steady himself. The rumbling caused his hat to tumble, but he held out a hand and caught it before it hit the ground. He looked back toward the fairground and tipped his head.

“What the hell was that?” Alex wheezed, his back aching.

The Ringmaster ignored his question. “Calm down,” he said.

Alex struggled to his feet, his breath coming back slowly. “What was that earthquake?” he demanded.

“Can’t tell you,” the Ringmaster said.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The Ringmaster shrugged, tapping his cane again. “A bit of both,” he said. “Are you going to listen to me?”

Alex struggled to control his breathing, trying to remember those damn exercises his therapist taught him. There had to be a way to get out of this hallucination, right? What do he have to lose? If he doesn’t listen, he could be stuck here. And, honestly, he really didn’t want to wanter around this place for any longer than necessary. “Okay,” he said, looking up at him.

Behind his glasses, the Ringmaster’s eyes glinted. “There’s only one way for you to get out of here and back to your plane. You need to find the owner of this fine establishment,” he said, gesturing to the fairground behind me with his cane. “They’ll be able to show you the way out. If you can’t find them, you’ll be stuck here until you die. So, if I were you, I would take this place very seriously, Alex.”

“You aren’t the owner?” Alex asked.

The Ringmaster shook his head and smiled ever so slightly. “No. I’m just in charge of making sure the show runs smoothly,” he said.

Alex paused, thinking about it. “Wait,” he said. “What happens if I can’t find the owner?”

“You could die,” the Ringmaster said, his voice flat and hard. Each word dropped like a stone in his stomach. “Listen to me carefully, Alex. Inside there, you’re going to encounter a lot of things, things from your past, things from your present. You need to remember who you are. Don’t lose sight of yourself. It’s so easy to get lost in the what-ifs and the could-have-beens, but you can’t let that happen. Don’t get lost. If you get lost, you will never come out again.”

The words washed over Alex, settling in his brain and echoing around his head. _You could die._ “That’s not possible,” he said before realizing what he was saying. “This is just a dream. If you die in a dream, you wake up.”

The Ringmaster blinked and raised an eyebrow as a family rushed by them, heading straight for the entrance. The father brushed past Alex and he felt… insubstantial. He didn’t know how to explain it; it was like his clothing moved right through Alex’s. “If this is a dream, why do you have a red mark on your arm?” he asked, gesturing with his cane. “This is no dream.”

“There’s no other explanation,” Alex said, shaking his head. “I was on a plane and now I’m here. That isn’t physically possible.” He needed to remember that. If he doesn’t, who knows what could happen?

The Ringmaster raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what is and what isn’t possible here,” he said, walking passed Alex and toward the entrance. “But you don’t have to take my word for it. See for yourself. But remember what I told you, Alex. You have to remember what I told you, because I might not be able to protect you in there."

_Protect me?_ Alex thought, staring at the Ringmaster’s retreating back. “What do I need to be protected from?”

But, if the Ringmaster heard him, he didn’t respond. He just slipped into bustling crowd inside the fairground, his voice echoing over the noise, “Come one, come all!” The crowd swarmed around him, swallowing him.

Alex eyed the entrance as he walked forward. Above the entrance were the words, “CLARKE & CARLYLE’S CIRCUS” in huge letter, flashing bulbs affixed to the letters. The names jumped out at him, like he should know the people behind the names. People dressed in blue shirts with, “C&C’s Circus” on the breast pocket manned the entrance booths, and didn’t seem to notice Alex when he slipped inside.

Children rushed passed him, laughing and screaming for more cotton candy or ride and game tickets. Their parents trailed after them, smiling indulgently. The noise pressed in from all sides, blending together and creating a dull buzz.

_Find the owner of this place,_ Alex repeated to himself as he tried to navigate through the crowd. People bumped into him from all sides, pushing him this way and that. Some people brushed by without an apology, calling the name of their child as they did.

The sun shone high above Alex in the sky, white fluffy drifting across it. A warm breeze brushed by him, teasing his hair. It was pleasantly warm, gently heating up my back and shoulders without causing him to sweat. Part of him wanted to remove his shirt and just walk around in his binder, but Alex didn’t feel comfortable enough. All around him, people moved, rolling around him like the tide against a rock. Families clustered together around picnic benches, eating hot dogs, hamburgers, funnel cakes, and cotton candy. Carnival workers in their blue polo shirts moved throughout the people unobtrusively, picking up trash left behind and making sure the area was clean.

The dry grass crunched under his feet as Alex walked, causing small swirls of dust to lift when he moved along the beaten down dirt. A young girl ran passed him, clutching a long strip of carnival tickets in her fist. She was laughing, the smile on her face as bright as the sun. Behind her, her parents moved more slowly, serene smiles on their faces. The father called to her and she spun, laughing.

“You gotta catch me, Dad!” she cried before running away.

Her mother looked concerned for a moment before her husband put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he soothed her. “She won’t go too far ahead. She knows she needs to stay close.”

As he spoke, Alex noticed one of the workers—a man with curly red hair shoved under a baseball cap—peel away from the others to follow the girl. He stayed a few feet away from her, still continuing to work, but he was never far from her. When she rushed into a yellow and white tent, the worker stopped and turned toward her parents.

“She went into the petting zoo,” he called, inclining his head to them.

The parents hurried passed Alex and went into the petting zoo, calling their daughter’s name.

_This place seems really safe…,_ Alex thought as the worker walked toward him. “Do you do that with every child who runs away from their parents?” he asked. “Keep an eye on them and tell their parents where they go?”

“The owner wants everyone who comes here to be safe and to enjoy their time, sir,” the worker said. “So, yes. Some of us will keep an eye on the young ones who run away from their parents. It’s one of the best things about this place, if you ask me. Everyone keeps an eye out for each other.” He inclined his head to me before slipping into the crowd.

Alex paused and looked at the tent in front of him. It was one of many, an entire village of yellow and white tents. People dressed like the Ringmaster—although, each one wore a different color waistcoat so the entire rainbow was present—stood outside the tents, advertising the different attractions.

“Get your fortune told by the amazing Madame Celesta! Right here, folks!” a woman dressed in a purple waistcoat called, gesturing toward the tent she stood by.

“Come see the wonders of the world! Dancers from all across the globe are here for your entertainment!” a man in a green waistcoat said, moving in mockery of a dance.

An androgynous figure in a gold coat with a snake wrapped around their neck and arms paced around in front of another tent. “You’ve been to the petting zoo,” they said, the snake’s tongue flicking out and tasting the air. “Now come see exotic creatures from the Amazon Rainforest, the African Savannah, the mountains of Asia!”

Alex ignored their call and stepped into the petting zoo tent. The scent of hay reached his nose, accompanied by a myriad of noises: animals, children cooing and clapping, and parents speaking to their children. Everything was organized and neat; all the animals looked cared for.

He smiled and walked up to the sheep and lamb by the entrance. The lamb’s coat was meticulously groomed and as white as snow. It butted its head against his hand, bleating softly. Alex stroked its head gently, amazed at the softness under his fingers.

“Is everything to your liking, sir?” someone asked behind him.

Alex turned and saw a few workers there, a different animal accompanying them: the one in the middle held a rabbit, the one on the left had a kitten on her shoulder, and the one on the right led a small pony by a halter. They all looked anxious for some reason, continually looking at each other and the other carnival workers. In fact, when Alex looked around, all of the workers had stopped what they were doing to watch them.

“Yes,” Alex said, stroking the lamb’s head. “I’m amazed how well cared for these guys are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a petting zoo like this.”

“The owner wants all of the animals in our care to be well taken care of,” the woman leading the pony said as she knelt down. She began untangling the pony’s mane with gentle fingers, smiling as her charge whinnied at her. “We do everything we can to make sure they get whatever they need, and the owner makes that possible.”

“The owner of this place seems to really care about it, and the people in it,” Alex mused, standing up and brushing straw off his pants. “Please let the owner know how impressed I am. I don’t know if it’ll do much but—”

“Oh, don’t worry sir,” the man with the rabbit said, stroking the rabbit’s soft ears. When it squirmed to get down, the man walked over and carefully set it down in its enclosure. “The owner will greatly appreciate your comments, sir. After all—”

He was cut off when the ground rumbled again, causing all the animals to cry out in fear. In response, the workers began soothing their charges, cradling the smaller animals close and petting the larger ones.

The woman with the kitten swallowed and held the kitten close. “The owner appreciates hearing everyone’s comments,” she said, nuzzling her nose against the kitten’s soft fur. “The owner likes to know how satisfied our guests are.”

“I see,” Alex said, giving the lamb one more gentle pat on the head.

“Would you like to see more?” the woman with the kitten said as the little creature crawled up onto her shoulder and yawned, flashing a pink tongue and white teeth.

Alex shook his head. “No. I really should be going,” he said, standing up. “Thank you.” He smiled at them before leaving the way he came. Behind him, the carnival workers started hissing to each other, but their words were drowned out by the animals and music from the game booths as he stepped outside. Noise washed over him—the whir of machines, the bells from game booths, the sizzling of funnel cakes being fried. There were so many different places Alex could go inside here and he felt the urge to explore.

Alex moved deeper in the the grounds, passing all sorts of food stands and games. The cheerful music from a merry-go-round could be heard over the sound of voices. A worker made balloon animals for crowds of children, who cheered and clapped in response.

It had been a long time since he’d been to one of these, Alex realized as he walked. The last time had been with Jess and Mark when he was a child; he’d wanted to go with my father, but he’d been busy at the time. Jess hadn’t wanted to take Alex with, but Mark had been nice enough.

Alex allowed himself to get lost in the memories as he walked. He hadn’t thought about _that_ part of his life in a long time. A clown passed him with a bunch of balloons, offering one. He took a red one, tying it around his wrist before he could really think about it. The ribbon squeezed his skin, but he didn’t mind. Hell, if he was going to be stuck in this place, he might as well enjoy himself.

The balloon bobbed above his head as Alex walked, taking in the sights around him. A young boy slammed a hammer down on a whack-a-mole game, laughing all the while. Next to him, another little boy scowled and hit at the appearing moles half-heartedly. The first boy looked at his friend or brother—Alex wasn’t really sure— and beamed, demonstrating how to play.

“Can we go on the ferris wheel after this?” the second boy asked, pouting at his companion.

Alex didn’t stay long enough to hear the first boy’s response. Mark had done something similar when he was a child, teaching him how to play silly games, learning the trick to beating them. This entire place seemed to bring memories back from their hiding places, but, for some reason, Alex found he didn’t mind as much. Things were different now.

Everything fell silent and Alex frowned. As weird as this place was, that just seemed too strange. Noise didn’t just end like that, especially not in a crowded fairground like this. He looked around, trying to figure out why. A decrepit, stained tent appeared in his line of sight, held together by rotten poles and fraying rope. It was darker than the other tents, sticking out like the proverbial sore thumb. A part of him didn’t want to go inside there—it seemed dangerous and forbidden—but he pushed forward anyway. He wasn’t gonna let some silly little feeling stop him.

Alex shouldered the flaps of the tent aside, causing chains to clink. What? He looked up, startled to see chains hanging from the thick canvas. It looked like they were meant to keep the tent shut, but that couldn't be possible. Tents didn’t have chains on them unless it was a nightmare tent, something out of a fairground horror movie. This seemed very out of place compared to everything else he’d seen. The rest of the fairground was bright, cheerful, and welcoming but this tent was cold, dark and foreboding.

This was a bad move. Alex really should just walk away from this place and forget he’d ever seen it. Something about this area screamed wrong to him and he was pretty sure the Ringmaster didn’t want him anywhere near this area. _But when have we ever cared about what he wants?_ a little voice whispered in Alex’s head and that caused him to step into the tent. He didn’t care about what the Ringmaster claimed.

A light turned on as soon as Alex stepped inside. The bulb flickered, casting shadows across the tent. There were cracked mirrors along the edges, pieces of glass littering the sawdust coated ground. A circle of thick, wooden boards enclosed the middle of the tent and the sawdust had been disturbed by what looked like footprints. Two chains hung down from the top, thick manacles on the ends. He thought he could see dried blood crusted on the black metal. The air became cold, as cold as it did in Michigan in the winter, and he was surprised when his breath didn’t appear in front of me.

“What is this place?” Alex whispered, looking around in horror-filled awe. He stepped forward, distantly aware of the canvas flaps shutting behind me. The tent seemed darker now that he was deeper inside. He stepped over the ring, feet making a soft noise against the sawdust-coated ground. The chains shot out, wrapping around his wrists and squeezing hard. “Hey!” Despite his fighting, Alex was dragged to the center of the ring, his own footsteps joining the ones before.

Alex’s arms were yanked toward the ceiling, the chains raising them over his head. The metal bit into the tender skin of his inner wrists and he was surprised it didn’t draw blood. His binder stretched with the movement, tightening around his chest and constricting his breathing. It hurt, more than it did when he first started wearing the binder.

“Let go of me!” Alex shouted, tugging at his wrists. The manacles held fast and every time he struggled, the chains yanked his arms up higher. He went up on his toes, trying to relieve the pressure but it didn’t work. He squirmed, trying to twist his wrists free.

“Ow!”

Blood started dripping down Alex’s wrists, leaving red trails against his skin. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t free his wrists. He tried running toward the ring, but the chains just yanked him back, pain shooting through his shoulders.

“Help!” Alex shouted, hoping someone would hear him. “Hey, can anyone hear me?!” Nobody answered, his voice bouncing off the canvas around him. “Let go!” He pulled harder and the chains creaked, but didn’t give.

_“What have we here?”_ a feminine voice cooed, her voice sounding tinny like it was coming out of a speaker. _“You’ve wandered off the beaten path.”_

“Who’s there?!” Alex shouted, twisting to find the source of the voice. He saw tiny speakers pressed up against the canvas near the top; that must be where her voice was coming from.

_“Perhaps I should just keep you here. Leave you trapped here like I was.”_

Alex did not want to be stuck in this place. He wanted to get out of here. He yanked his arms down and for some reason, the chains slackened and his arms pressed against his body. The manacles popped open and he ran toward the exit, tripping over the barrier. His palms scraped against the wall, causing dirt and sawdust to get in his wounds. Ignoring the stinging, he forced himself up and slammed against the canvas. It didn’t open.

“Let me out!” Alex shouted, banging his fists against the fabric. Had someone chained the tent shut? After a moment, the canvas fell away, allowing him to stumbled outside. The sun blinded him for a moment, the light too bright after the darkness of the tent. That place was a fucking prison. It existed to keep someone trapped inside it, keeping them from the outside world. _What kind of place was this?_ None of it made sense.

The heat from the sun warmed all the places the inside of the tent had frozen. Alex chafed his arms, walking away from the tent. The noises of the crowd swelled, pulling him back into the seemingly safer area of the fairground.

Alex saw the Ringmaster’s top hat in the distance, bobbing toward him. Not wanting to be seen by that strange Ringmaster, he ducked behind a tent. The Ringmaster appeared after a moment, a frown on his face as he swung his cane. He kept looking around, gaze flitting from attraction to attraction.

“Mister! Mister!” a young girl cried, running up to him. Alex watched as she collided with the Ringmaster’s legs, beaming up at him. “Can you show me the ponies? Please?”

The Ringmaster pulled away from her and knelt, smiling down at her. “I can’t, but I’m sure there’s someone around here who can,” he said, voice soft. “Here, why don’t we go talk to Maria? She’s right over there in the blue shirt. She’ll be able to help you find the ponies.” He led the little girl over to the aforementioned woman, speaking to her before turning away. As soon as he did, the frown returned to his face.

_What’s he so angry about?_ Alex thought, sticking close to him. Had something happened? Did he know about Alex’s little… adventure in that tent? He shivered, feeling the manacles around his wrists again.

The Ringmaster swept away, moving through the rows of tents. Some of them were full of workers who were relaxing, chatting amongst each other. Others were empty, full of what Alex assumed to be different props and the like. Workers would sweep in and out, carrying large boxes. The Ringmaster nodded his head to each one but didn’t stop to talk.

_What’s got him so worked up?_ Alex thought, pressing against a tent when the Ringmaster got too close. He disappeared between two tents and he poked his head out, watching him.

The Ringmaster started pacing in front of a somewhat larger tent, rolling his cane between his hands. A strange glow came from the tent, outlining the Ringmaster’s silhouette. After a moment, he swept into the tent, pushing the flap back. Alex crept closer, hearing a low hum from inside. Careful not to be seen, he peeked into the somewhat-dark interior, sucking back a gasp.

The Ringmaster stood in front of a dozen or more TVs, a different section of the grounds on each screen, images flickering to different angles of the fairground. His head moved from one to the next, searching for something. Cursing, he threw the cane aside and it hit the plastic-coated canvas with a thump; I felt the fabric shift against me but he didn’t notice.

“Where is he?” the Ringmaster grumbled, removing his silken top hat and dragging a hand through his sable hair. The dark color made his gloves appear whiter than before. “Where the hell is he? He can’t have gone far.”

Who couldn’t have gone far? Alex bit the inside of his cheek, stopping himself from speaking. He had no idea who the Ringmaster was looking for; it could be anyone in the grounds. It wasn’t necessarily him, right?

“Relax,” a soothing voice murmured from the shadows of the tent. “It’s not like he can go outside the grounds.”

“But if she found him,” the Ringmaster said.

The other person laughed. “If she had found Alex, you would know,” the voice said, tone gentle. “This—”

The ground shook, a rumble cutting the speaker off. Alex stumbled, falling to the ground with a hard thump. Inside, he heard the Ringmaster swear again and something fell over. “Are you alright?” he asked and Alex saw him help a woman in a pale dress stand, her dark curls brushing against her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she said, breathless. Her hands curled in the lapels of the Ringmaster’s coat. “But why—?”

The Ringmaster stiffened and looked toward the gap in the flaps, pulling the mystery woman against his chest. His eyes met Alex’s and he hissed, “Alex.”

The woman made a noise and started trying to pull away from him to look toward Alex. The Ringmaster kept her face hidden, stepping in front of the woman. “Alex—” the woman said, but Alex didn’t stick around to see her. He turned and ran back the way he came.

Something was wrong with this godforsaken place, but Alex didn’t know what it was. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to go home. And the only way that was going to happen was if he found the owner of this damned place.

“Again! Again! Again!” a young voice called over the noise.

Alex jerked and turned toward the voice, eyes widening. Standing by a cotton candy booth with a strange girl he didn’t recognize was Charlie. The girl’s brown hair had been pulled back into a French braid and her startling green eyes—highlighted by the shimmering eyeshadow she wore—met Alex’s and she smirked. She wasn’t dressed for a trip to the carnival in her skin tight jeans, high heeled boots, and a low-cut shirt. Alex couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about this girl made him uneasy, especially since she was so casually interacting with his sister’s child.

Charlie’s hair shone like spun gold under the lights—so much like a young Jess—as the little one smiled up at the girl. In one hand, Charlie clutched a stick of blue cotton candy, lips sticky with the sugar. The strange girl knelt down, offering Charlie a napkin to wipe the sticky mess away.

“Charlie!” Alex shouted, pushing through the crowd.

Charlie’s head started to turn toward Alex, but the girl offered Charlie her hand. Charlie beamed up at her and took her hand; the girl shot Alex a smirk as she straightened. The two began to walk off, Charlie waving the cotton candy along. The girl didn’t engage with Charlie at all, her face turned away from the child.

“Charlie!” Alex shouted again, moving around a group of children and their balloons. “Charlie!” What in the world was Charlie doing here? Why wasn’t Charlie with Jess or Mark?

Charlie stopped and turned, staring at Alex with wide eyes before tugging away from the girl. She reluctantly let Charlie go, watching us with cold eyes. Charlie ran into his legs, barely managing to keep the cotton candy from getting stuck to his jeans.

Alex dropped to his knees and put his hands on Charlie’s shoulders. “Are you okay?” he demanded, looking over Charlie carefully. Apart from the smears surrounding Charlie’s mouth, the child seemed just fine.

Charlie nodded, grinning. “I’m okay!” the child said.

Alex tugged Charlie into a hug, breathing out sharply. “Thank goodness,” Ihe whispered, stroking Charlie’s hair. “What in the world are you doing here? Where are your mom and dad?”

Charlie blinked at him. “Dunno,” Charlie said, taking a bite out of the cotton candy. “A lady came an’ told me to stay with her until we found Unca Lex.”

Alex frowned. “Unca Lex?” he repeated. “Charlie, I’m Unca Lex, remember?” What in the world was going on? Charlie had called him “Unca Lex” or some variation of that for years. Hell, ever since Charlie had learned to talk, Alex’d been teaching him to say Lex.

“You’re Auntie Sasha,” Charlie said.

The breath rushed out of Alex. This couldn't be happening. Charlie knew who he was, knew Alex was his uncle. Charlie didn’t know that he could have been “auntie.” Jess and Charlie’s dad, Mark decided Ihe would be the one to tell Charlie. He stared at Charlie, unable to believe what he was hearing. “No, Charlie,” Alex said, voice distant. “I’m Unca Lex. You don't have an Auntie Sasha.”

"Are you sure?" a very familiar voice asked.

Alex looked up and saw Jess standing behind Charlie. She looked younger, dressed in a skin tight t-shirt with their high school mascot across her chest. Her arms were crossed over her chest, covering the logo for their old high school. This Jess wasn’t Charlie’s mother yet, but Charlie ran to her and hid against her legs anyway.

“Of course I am,” Alex said, forcing himself to find his voice. He had to figure this out. “Charlie has always called me Lex because my name is Alex. Not Sasha.”

“But people call you Sasha, don’t they?” Jess demanded, pressing Charlie against her legs.

“Babushka and Dedushka call me that,” Alex agreed. He pushed himself to his feet, watching his sister. “Because Sasha is a nickname for Alexander in Russian. You know that, Jess. What’s going on?”

Jess moved her hands to her hips, staring at Alex. “What’s going on?” she repeated. “I want my actual sibling back, not you. I want Sasha, not Alex. I want you to be what you’re supposed to be. I want my _little sister_ back.”

The words stung. Alex stepped backward, reeling as if from a physical blow. Jess couldn’t actually thing that, could she? He opened his mouth to respond but the only thing that came out was a strangle groan, the words twisting in his throat.

“I’m trans,” Alex managed to say, even though it came out garbled. “I was never your little sister, Jess. I was always your little brother instead.”

“You were better as a sister,” Jess said, crossing her arms over her chest. Charlie peaked out at them, looking from Alex to her and back again. “You’re supposed to be my sister.”

“Jess, you know that’s not true,” Mark’s voice said and Alex turned to see him walking toward us, a bag of popcorn in his hands. He looked like he’d just stepped off the page of his yearbook from senior year, walking toward them. His letterman jacket fit snugly across his shoulders, his dark hair swept across his forehead. Sweat shone against his skin, making it clear to him that he’d just gotten out of football practice.

Jess turned toward Mark, holding Charlie closer to her body. “It’s not true?” she demanded. “How the hell do you know?”

“Because that’s Alex,” Mark said, pointing at him. “That’s your _brother_ and you know that. You’ve known that for years.”

Jess shook her head, her hair flicking around her head. “No. That is not my sibling. You don’t know anything,” she said. “My—” the words got lost in the fairground noise, the babbling children and the sound from the rides.

Alex couldn’t hear her and, for a moment, he was so thankful he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and pinched his arm hard. _I don’t want to be here. I want to be back on the plane, going back to college,_ he thought, but when he opened his eyes, he still stood in the middle of that godforsaken place.

He stumbled backward, away from Mark and Jess. Their voices got louder, their argument ringing out over the noises. “—Alex is your brother!” Mark snapped, glaring in Jess’ direction. “He has always been your brother. You know that!”

Jess scowled. “I know Sasha better than anybody else!” she shouted. “You don’t know anything!”

Alex slapped his hands over his ears, not wanting to listen anymore. He turned around and ran deeper into the fairground, skirting around crowds of people. His heart pounded against his ribs and his stomach twisted, leaving him nauseated. He couldn’t believe Jess said like that. Sure, she hadn't been that happy at first, but she’d come to accept him and would even defend him against their mother. So that couldn’t have been Jess, right? He just saw her. He knows how she feels about him.

Alex saw the girl lounging along the counter of a game booth. Their eyes met and she grinned, wiggling her fingers in his direction. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Ringmaster, directing traffic and laughing with some of the kids. He thought he saw the girl laugh and blow a kiss toward the Ringmaster, but he couldn’t be sure. 

Maybe Alex should head to the roller coaster. That would definitely cheer him up. He turned his steps toward the rickety coaster in the distance. People peeled away from him, heading in other directions. Some children tugged their parents toward the merry-go-round, while others begged their parents to let them play the whack-a-mole game. Loud buzzers and bells rang in his ears as he moved, reminding him of the life all around him.

The roller coaster loomed ahead of Alex, looking like a strong breeze could blow it over. he smiled, hearing the shouts of excitement from the riders as they went down the hill. A ride on that would surely make me feel better—Steph called him an adrenaline junkie because of his love for roller coasters and other fast moving things, but he didn’t really agree with her. Alex just like speed.

“Hello, Alex.”

Alex blinked and lowered his gaze from the roller coaster, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the person standing before him. She wore jeans and an old band t-shirt, the dark material faded. Her dark hair stirred in the sudden gust of cool wind, the strands briefly hiding her eyes. For a moment, Alex couldn’t breathe, the sight of her stealing the breath from his lungs and the words from his mouth. Was was she here?

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you going to say something?” she asked.

Her words spurred me into action. “I didn’t think I’d see you ever again,” Alex said when his voice came back. “I haven’t seen you in—”

“It’s been, what, six years now?” she said and their eyes met. Ale couldn’t deny the chill that shot down his spine when he saw the cold look in her eyes. Swallowed, he tried to force himself to calm down, but his heart kept pounding.

“Something like that,” Alex agreed. “How have you been, Diana?” He had to be courteous, no matter what happened in the past. Maybe Diana had forgotten about it, even if he certainly hadn’t.

When they were in middle school, they’d both gone to the same, well to do private school. It was meant to get them ready for high school and college, so the work load was intense to say the least. That’s where he’d met Diana and Sophia. He hadn’t come out yet, so they had been two of his only friends.

“I’ve been better now that you’re gone,” she responded.

Or maybe not.

Alex took a deep breath. He didn’t want to fight with her; fighting with her only ended in him being not only furious, but completely depressed. Was this one of the things the Ringmaster had warned him about? If it was, how the hell did he know about Diana? It wasn’t exactly something he broadcasted to the whole fucking world. Not wanting to deal with this, he turned around and began walking away. Even if there were a hundred miles between them, the distance would be too short. He wanted to find the owner of this place and get out of here.

“Running away?” Diana called and Alex could hear the smirk in her voice. “That always was one of the things you were best at.”

_Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t rise to the bait._ Alex had to keep reminding himself of that, otherwise who knew what would happen? He didn’t trust himself to be civil with her. Honestly, the best thing for him right now was leaving. But….

“I see you haven’t changed,” Alex said over his shoulder, unable to help himself. He hated just sitting by passively, letting someone like her walk all over him. Maybe if he went on the offensive, things would be different this time. “Still petty.”

“I’d rather be petty than a complete coward like you,” Diana replied. “You’re still running away. Are you still flirting with other people’s girlfriends too?”

“I never did that!” Alex snarled, whirling toward her. “I never flirted with her!” 

Diana snorted. “I was there Alex, or don’t you remember? I watched you flirt with her and I watched when you destroyed Sophia,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She left because of you.”

He flinched. “She was expelled because she was failing all her classes,” Alex said. He needed to remember that; he wasn’t responsible for Sophia’s departure. He and Sophia had most of their classes together, so they saw each other almost every day. It hadn’t been long before they started dating; she hadn’t minded that he was more masculine than feminine even though he’d never been able to tell her the truth. She’d just been happy they were together.

“She failed because you weren’t there and you said you would be,” Diana said, examining her nails. Her gaze flicked up to Alex’s and she smirked. “She failed because you didn’t care about her.”

The words stung. It wasn’t a new thought to him, but to actually hear it vocalized was something else entirely. But that hadn’t been what happened. “No. That’s not—”

“Why don’t we ask her?” Diana said, voice vicious. “What do you think, Sophia?”

Alex breath caught in his throat and he turned to see Sophia appear by the roller coaster. Her bright hair curled around her head and she looked… trapped, like she didn’t want to be here but didn’t have a choice. She looked the same as she did when he’d seen her last and his heart twisted in his chest. She’d always been beautiful—he’d always been in awe that someone like her had said yes to him.

“Diana,” Sophia said softly. “I don’t want this.”

Diana ignored her. “Sophia adored you, Alex, but you couldn’t stand her,” she said.

“That’s not true,” Alex said, trying to remain calm. “I did everything I could for her.” He turned to Sophia, hoping against hope that she would believe him. He had done a lot of terrible things in his life, but he’d never once lied to her. “You believe that, right?”

Sophia frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Diana spoke over her. “If you had, the two of you would still be together,” Diana said, moving closer until she stood nose to nose with Alex. “She would still be with us, her actual friends.” She suddenly smiled and it felt like someone had poured ice down the back of his shirt. “You’re the reason behind all of the bad things that happened, Alex. I’m glad we dropped you like a stone. You did everything wrong.”

“How?” Alex demanded, curling his hands into fists.

Diana blinked before her lips twisted into a grin. “Shall we go through everything, then?” she asked, voice like silk. She pressed closer and Alex shivered when her breath ghosted over his lips. “You never wanted to be part of our big group things and you always complained, sitting there like a goddamn _princess_ who wanted everyone to bow to her whims. It had to be your way and if it wasn’t, you didn’t want to be there. Shall I continue or is that enough evidence to show what kind of shitty person you are?”

“Now, now, now. You know that’s not true. Alex is a great friend; better than you could ever hope to be, Diana.”

Alex knew that voice. Of course he did. He turned to see Steph stepping out of the roller coaster area. Her dark skin shone with sweat and she tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. He’d never seen something so gorgeous before in his life. “Steph,” he said.

Steph walked over to them and easily slotted herself against Alex’s side. His arm wrapped around her waist, hugging her close. He turned and pressed his face against her neck, thankful that she was a little taller than he was. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Alex whispered into her skin  
.  
She didn’t say anything, just looked at where Sophia stood. “Do you want to come do this yourself?” Steph asked. “Or do you want this _banshee_ to accuse Alex of all these horrible things?”

“I—” Diana started to say, but Sophia’s soft voice cut her off.

“Leave, Diana,” she said and Alex looked up to see Sophia walking over with squared shoulders. “I’m tired of you fighting my fights for me. It’s my turn.”

Diana scowled but stepped back, moving toward the crowds. “I suppose everything would be sweeter if it came from you,” she said. “If you need me, I’ll be around.”

Sophia ignored her and stopped in front of Steph and Alex. “I guess it is finally time for us to talk about this,” she said, lifting her chin. “Even if I don’t want to do it. I put those memories behind me for a reason.”

Alex winced and pressed closer to Steph. “I’m sorry,” he said. Words couldn’t describe exactly how sorry he was. No matter how much he tried, nothing came out.

Sophia took a deep breath and rocked on her heels. “For which bit?” she asked. “Stringing me along? Promising to be there and then disappearing into your clubs? Spending more time online with _her_ than with me in person?” She didn’t sound angry, there was no bite to her words. It surprised him, to be completely honest.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Alex asked.

She blinked. “I was,” Sophia admitted. “I was so angry at you for so long. I know it seems silly, looking back on it now, but you were my first. I imagined so many things for us and nothing came from it because we were kids. Although, you talking to another girl online didn’t help.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Alex said, feeling the need to defend himself. “I didn’t feel anything like that for Steph. You have to know that. I never cheated on you—”

“No,” Sophia agreed, cutting him off. “But, you wanted to, didn’t you? She understood what you were going through and I never could. If you had told me you were trans, that you were my boyfriend not my girlfriend, I would have done whatever I could to help. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

The words stung, but Alex couldn’t deny the truth in those words. He had been infatuated with Sophia, she’d been gorgeous and sweet and kind, but he hadn’t been ready to reveal his greatest secret to her. He had no idea how she’d react and, well, it sucked to admit it, but he was terrified of telling her.

“I was scared,” Alex said, looking down at the dirt. “I didn't want you to turn your back on me. I— the thought of you looking at me like a freak was too much. I couldn’t handle it.”

Sophia nodded. “I wish you’d just told me that,” she said. “I don’t know how I would have reacted, but I’d like to think I would have supported you.”

Alex nodded. He wanted to think that too.

She turned to Steph and smiled. “It’s nice to actually meet the woman he went on and on about,” Sophia said. They stared at each other for a moment but they weren’t sizing the other up. This felt… different, like Sophia was passing the torch or something. It was a moment of acceptance. “Take care of him.”

Steph nodded, nuzzling against Alex. “I will,” she said softly.

“Are you happy with her, Alex?” Sophia asked.

Alex paused, thinking about his relationship with Steph. He thought about all the times Steph had shown up with _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ and popcorn after a bad day, about how she never mocked his old stuffed Quasimodo when she finally discovered him hidden in Alex’s closet. He thought about how Steph helped him talk to his professors about his gender and pronouns when he’d been scared shitless. And finally, Alex thought about how, because of her, he had a group of steadfast friends who loved him, even if they didn’t always get along. “I really am, Sophia,” he said.

Sophia smiled and reached out, touching his cheek. “Good,” she said softly. “I wish we could have worked, but I can see just how happy she makes you. Goodbye, Alex. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again.”

Alex nodded, feeling a lightness in his chest. They hadn’t spoken since they’d broken up all those years ago and it still hurt when he thought about her. But now, he could breathe a little easier. She didn’t hate him and Alex felt like he could fly. “Goodbye, Sophia,” he said.

Sophia waved and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Steph and him standing there. He tried to follow her, but her bright hair disappeared behind a booth and didn’t come back.

“Are you okay?” Steph asked softly, looking at him.

He nodded. “I am,” Alex said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Steph’s cheek.

“—not fair!”

Alex blinked and turned toward the commotion, curious. The Ringmaster stood next to a hotdog stand, spinning his cane. The same girl from before, the teenager he’d seem with Charlie stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. He couldn’t see her face, but somehow he knew she was scowling.

“I reacted to what you did,” the Ringmaster responded, spinning his cane. “I won’t let Alex go down without a fight.” He looked strangely grim, a frown on his face instead of his trademark smile. He tapped his cane against the floor, eyes locked on her.

“You realize now that the kid gloves are coming off,” the teenager said, crossing her arms over her well-developed chest. “We both know that as soon as Alex steps into my domain, I’ve won. And you know he won’t be able to resist. He’s never been able to resist.”

“We’ll see,” the Ringmaster said before noticing Alex’s gaze. He froze and made a quick, sharp motion in Alex’s direction, like he was slitting his throat.

“Alex, win me a prize,” Steph said, pulling Alex away.

“So that’s how you wanna play, huh?” the girl said before she was out of earshot.

Steph tugged him toward a game booth, pointing at the stuffed dog hanging from the rafters. “Win me that, please?” she asked, turning to look at Alex with big, soft eyes.

“Steph, you know I'm no good at games like that,” Alex said, but he didn’t fight when she stopped in front of the booth. The water pistol gleamed under the artificial light and he curled his fingers around the handles, aiming the barrel at the target.

Steph leaned against his back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Aw, you’ll be fine,” she promised Alex, nuzzling against his hair.

A little girl skipped up to the booth and sat three seats away from him. Alex glanced over at her and stared. A red balloon hovered above her, brushing the top of her head. He could only see half her face, but he saw enough: her brown eye. The childish curve of her cheek and chin. A dark birthmark in the hollow of her ear.

Alex reached up and brushed his fingers against the identical birthmark behind his own right ear. _That’s me,_ Alex thought, staring at her in awe.

Steph’s fingers curled in his hair. “You okay, Alex?” she asked in Alex’s ear.

Alex jerked and looked up at her. “Does she look familiar to you?” he asked, nodding toward the girl.

Steph looked over at her, her eyes narrowing. “No?” she said. “Hey, the game is starting.”

Alex twisted and started at the target, fingers pressing the buttons. The target started rising, faster than the little girl’s target. His reached the top first, causing a buzzer to ring out. Steph clapped excitedly and pointed at stuffed dog.

“Thank you, Alex!” Steph cried, kissing my cheek.

Alex didn’t hear her, eyes locked on the little girl as she walked away. He pulled away from Steph, staring at the girl with the red balloon, the girl who looked so much like Alex had as a child. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw the teenager—the one who’d been with Charlie—walking after her.

She looked back at Alex, as if she knew he was watching. Their eyes met and she smirked, the wisps of silver glinting under the brightly flashing lights. She turned and walked away, hips swaying as she moved.

“Steph, I gotta go,” Alex said faintly, pushing away from the game booth.

“Alex…,” Steph said, reaching for him.

Alex dodged her hand and race after the girl.

“Wait!” the Ringmaster called and he stepped in front of Alex. “Come this way! You have yet to see—”

Alex pushed past the Ringmaster, intent on following the girl, when a red balloon popped into his sight. The little girl from the game booth, the one who looked so much like someone from his past. Alex stood there, torn, before he heard the girl speak.

“Mom? Dad?” she called, looking around before walking away.

It took Alex a split second before he decided to follow her. Her bright red balloon made it easy. He forced himself not to think her name, not wanting it to be true. He’d already seen impossible things in this place—Jess and Mark as if they were in high school again, that girl, the Ringmaster, Steph even though Alex knew she was in Ann Arbor right now. _She can’t be who I think she is,_ he thought, trying to keep his eye on the red balloon.

She turned a corner and when Alex followed her, he found her in front of the bumper cars, waiting in line with two very familiar people. A blonde woman stood near the girl, hair pulled back tightly in a bun. A man wearing reading glasses held a group of red tickets in his hand, handing the girl a couple tickets. _But that’s impossible,_ Alex thought, staring at the adults.

“She doesn’t look like a girl,” the woman said and when she turned, Alex saw his mother staring back at him. But she looked too young: her face free of wrinkles and her hair bright gold instead of the ashy blonde Alex knew. “Her hair is too short and if she keeps wearing those baggy, masculine clothes, nobody will see her as a girl.”

Alex’s eyes went to the little girl. Her hair was cut short around her cheeks. Over-large, baggy jeans covered her legs and a ratty old black, classic rock t-shirt hung low on her torso. She kept twisting her hands in the hem, tugging and pulling at it as her parents argued.

“She looks fine,” the man said and Alex knew it would be his father before he turned around. “Let her be herself, Elizabeth. If that’s what she wants to wear, so be it.”

Alex’s mother wrinkled her nose. “They aren’t just clothes, Tyler,” she replied. “They are a statement about us as parents and if we let her get away with that kind of thing, who knows what she’ll turn into.”

“Let’s just stop arguing for now, Elizabeth,” Tyler said as the line moved forward. Before long, the three of them had clambered into cars. Alex, without seriously thinking about it, followed them and climbed into his own car. The rider operator merely tipped her baseball cap to him before starting the car.

“You’re acting like I don’t know my own daughter,” Elizabeth said, directing her car so it rammed straight into Tyler’s car. His car bounced away from hers, causing Tyler to scramble to control the car. Now that Tyler was out of the way, Elizabeth turned toward Alex. “You. You’re the cause of all this, aren’t you?”

“Mom!” Alex cried before he could stop himself.

This merely made Elizabeth angrier and she struck his car head on. Alex’s head whipped back and forth as the car move away. The wire grate above them screeched and threw sparks as his car settled.

“I do not have a son!” Elizabeth snarled, heading for Alex again. “I have two, wonderful daughters.”

Before she could hit Alex’s car, Tyler’s appeared and slammed her out of the way. “Leave our son alone!” he said as Elizabeth’s car swerved away. “Why can’t you see what you’ve done to him? Can’t you see what’s happening?”

“I know my daughter better than anyone in the world. And she is my daughter.”

Alex felt something shoot through him, leaving my head spinning. He raised a hand, cradling his forehead against his palm. His heart started pounding harder, slamming against his ribs and shortening his breath. He leaned forward, resting his head against the steering wheel. Something slammed into him from the side and Alex turned to see his car bump against the little girl’s— _Sasha,_ a voice whispered in his ear. _That’s Sasha and you know that._ —car. She stared at Alex before turning toward her parents.

“I want our kid to be happy,” Tyler said and Alex felt another car strike his. “I don’t care what that means. If our kid is a boy, I’ll support him. If our kid is a girl, then I’ll support her too.”

“You want to turn her against me,” Elizabeth snarled, ramming into Sasha’s car. It jerked forward, striking Alex’s, and causing it to slam into Tyler’s. “You’ve been trying to do that from the beginning! I won’t let you!”

Tyler scowled and slammed into Alex’s car, causing a similar chain reaction where Elizabeth’s car was struck by Sasha’s. “You’re trying to turn our kid into you! Let her be her own person!”

Alex swerved after that last strike, bumping into Sasha’s car. Sasha didn’t need to be in the middle of this fight. He kept bumping Sasha, pushing her away from where their parents fought. “Stay back here,” he told her and she nodded, eyes wide.

Alex twisted the steering wheel and put himself between Tyler and Elizabeth once more. They continued to shout over him and Alex squeezed the steering wheel as he was tossed around like a rag-doll. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the teenager from before, leaning against the side of the wall. She smirked when she saw Alex looking and her mouth formed words he couldn’t hear.

Eventually, the ride came to a stop. Head spinning, Alex clambered out of the bumper car, eyes locked on the teenager. She had moved to stand by the exit and she grinned when she saw him watching her. She wiggled her fingers at Alex, smirking. Rage surged through him and he leapt over the car ahead of him. Alex ran toward the teenager, ready to give her a piece of his mind but she disappeared into the crowd. Growling under his breath, Alex followed her, dodging around the families and other guests.

A cold wind blew over him, causing a flier to land in his face. Alex back-pedaled to a stop, batting at the paper. It fell to the ground in front of his, advertising the Hall of Mirrors. He knelt down and scooped it up. A flier? _That’s… strange,_ he thought, looking around.

Garbage littered the ground and a cloud covered the sun, sending the fairground into shadow. Very few people milled around him, leaving huge gaps of space. The whole area felt deserted, causing a shiver to rush down his spine.

Alex walked forward, looking at the different booths and attractions. They looked run-down, entire strips of paint peeling off the booths. Cobwebs clung to the corners and he could see layers of dust on the countertops and prizes.

Ahead of him, Alex could see the girl, leaning against a game booth, green eyes locked on him. She smirked and waved in his direction before blowing a kiss, like they were familiar with each other for whatever reason. When Alex recoiled in shock or disgust—he didn’t know which emotion was stronger—she had the nerve to wink at him. He began walking toward her when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“Where in the world are you heading, Alex?” the Ringmaster’s voice demanded, loud and jovial in Alex’s ear. “No no no! This just won’t do! Come with me!” He turned him around and started steering Alex back toward the bumper cars. His grip on his shoulder squeezed, like he was digging his nails into Alex’s skin.

“Wait, no!” Alex said, trying to pull away. “I need to talk to talk to that teenager—the one who—”

“Don’t worry about her,” the Ringmaster said, cutting Alex off. “She’s not important.” As soon as he said that, a sharp cold wind struck their back and almost sent the Ringmaster’s hat flying. He caught it with his free hand deftly, like he’d been expecting it to happen. “There’s someone else who needs to see you—someone who is more important.”

Alex frowned. “Who?” he demanded as people suddenly appeared from all sides, the litter being picked up as blue-polo clad workers stepped out from behind booths, armed with sticks with spikes at the end to pick up litter.

Again, the Ringmaster ignored Alex, instead leading him through a cloud of cotton candy smell. The thick sweetness made him sneeze. When the worker at the booth noticed Alex, she held out a stick full of cotton candy. “Here you go, sir,” she said, a bright smile on her face. “On the house for you, of course!”

Alex took the stick from her, staring at the fluffy cloud of pure sugar. He took a bite, the artificial flavor bursting on his tongue. He nodded in thanks at the vendor before the Ringmaster pulled me away.

“Where are you taking me?” Alex demanded.

“I told you: someone wants to see you,” the Ringmaster said, leading Alex deeper into the rides. “He’s waiting at his favorite ride.”

“Who—” Alex started to say, but the Ringmaster pushed him forward and sent him stumbling. He fell headlong into someone and strong arms caught me. They pulled Alex upright, their touch gentle. “Thanks,” he said, lifting his head to look at whoever caught him. He found himself  
staring into a very familiar face. “Ben,” he whispered.  
Ben smiled, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling. “Hey, Alex,” he said, dragging a hand across his scalp. Even though he’d never met Ben before, Alex had seen photos of him. It had been hard for him to completely believe that she’d had such short hair. But now he could.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked, staring into Ben’s face. He looked so different from Steph, but he could see her underneath Ben’s sharp lines.

Ben shrugged and cupped Alex’s cheek with his long pianist fingers. The nails were all wrong, he realized. They should be longer and colored, not these short nubs. With a soft smile, Ben leaned in and kissed Alex, his stubble scratching against his soft cheeks. It felt strange but comforting at the same time.

He pulled back, fingers brushing against Alex’s cheek before he took a step back. “Oh, Alex,” Ben said, shaking his head.

“What?” Alex asked, but Ben had turned away. He followed him, watching as Ben entered the line for the Scrambler—Steph’s favorite ride. He ran to the metal fence around the ride, watching as Ben walked over to a bench and sat down, without giving the operator a ticket. The arms of the ride started spinning, slowly at first before moving faster, whipping the benches around.

Alex tried to keep track of Ben, but every time he found where Ben sat, someone else sat there. Stephanie waved at him before the bench moved away. The next time he saw it, Ben sat there, arms out against the back of the bench. It kept happening: Steph, Ben, Steph, Ben, Steph Ben.

The ride stopped and Ben climbed out gracefully. He walked over to Alex, moving through the crowds of people to his side. “Don’t forget us,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing Alex again. This time, it felt more familiar: lipgloss clung to my mouth that tasted like watermelon. He reached out, curling hand around Ben’s neck, only to pull back in surprise when he felt hair tickling my fingertips. When Alex pulled back, Steph stared at me with soft eyes, her dark curls wrapped around his fingers.

“Don’t forget us,” she repeated, pressing their foreheads together. “Please.”

“How could I forget you, Steph?” Alex asked, rubbing out noses together. “I love you. You helped me become who I am today.”

But Steph shook her head, eyes closed. “Not just me,” she whispered. “Don’t forget Ben. He is me as much as I am him. I wouldn’t be here without him.” She opened her eyes, pulling back somewhat to meet his gaze. “Like you wouldn’t be here without Sasha.”

Alex tugged her into another kiss, unwilling to talk about Sasha. Sasha didn’t matter. Only Alex did. Sasha was the past; she had nothing to do with him now. He knew he should be thinking about Sasha but he didn’t want to. Sasha wasn’t here; Alex was and Steph was with him. That was all that mattered.

“You know that’s not true,” a voice said from behind Alex.

Alex pulled away from Steph and turned toward the speaker, keeping her behind him. The girl stood there, grinning at him. Her arms were crossed under her chest, pushing her breasts up even more. A lacy black bra peaked out from the low neck-line of her shirt and his eyes lingered before snapping up to her face. He really shouldn’t be looking at another woman’s chest with his girlfriend behind him. Something about this girl made the hair on the back of his neck raise.

“What?” Alex asked.

The girl smiled and stepped forward. "You know that's not true," she repeated, adjusting her arms. The movement pushed her breasts up and drew attention to them; Alex’s eyes flicked down to them unwillingly before snapping back up to her face. "She's a part of you. One could argue she's the most important part of you."

Steph put a hand on his back and stepped forward, moving out of Alex’s shadow. "And that is where we disagree," she said and the girl's eyes landed on her.

Her mouth twisted into a sneer. "Aha yes. You. There are so many things I’d like to do to you," she said, voice soft. "After all, here you are."

“I’m here. But you aren’t in control,” Steph said, tugging Alex’s arm around her waist. She leaned into him, smug. “Not in this area, anyway.”

The girl hummed. "No, not out here," she agreed. "Do you really think you can keep him from going to my domain? You know what he's like."

"He's right here," Alex snapped. This girl set his teeth on edge and he didn't know why. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

The girl's green gaze landed on Alex. "Oh, but you're not supposed to be here, Alex," she said, spitting out his name like a cherry pit. "You know that as well as I do."

"You're wrong," Steph snapped from Alex’s side. "Alex is supposed to exist. This is—"

The girl pointed at Steph’s throat. "Ah, ah, aha," she said and Steph's voice cut off. "You know the rules."

Steph brought a hand to her throat, trying to speak but unable to.

“What did you do to her?” Alex demanded, turning to block Steph with his body. “Steph, are you okay?”

Steph nodded and rested her forehead against his shoulder. He rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her. He could feel the girl’s eyes on them and it made him uneasy.

“You should go back as well,” the girl said, raising her hand once more. “You were better that way too.”

Steph’s head came up sharply, her eyes landing on the girl.

“I won’t let you hurt her!” Alex snapped, heedless of the crowd pushing them on all sides. Someone bumped into Steph and she stumbled a few steps away from him. Alex reached out and grabbed her arm, tugging her closer to him and sighing when he felt her body pressed against him.

The girl laughed. “You won’t be able to stop me,” she said, shaking her head.

“I can,” the Ringmaster’s voice said. He appeared from behind a booth, leaning against it casually. He tipped his top hat in Steph’s direction and she ducked her head into Alex’s shoulder, strangely embarrassed. He winked at Alex and he scowled at the Ringmaster. What was he playing at?

“You?” the girl demanded, but there was a strange shakiness to her voice.

“That’s right,” the Ringmaster responded, waving his cane at the people around them. “This is mine and you know that. Return Stephanie’s voice to her.”

The girl sneered, curling her lip. “He’s not that far from my domain,” she said. “You think you can stop him from following me? I have his precious girlfriend’s voice. She was about to do something very wrong. So I made it so she couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t have stopped her. If he wants her voice back, he’ll have to come get it.”

Alex bared his teeth at her. “I’m not afraid of some girl,” he snarled. “You don’t scare me.”

She laughed, her voice getting lost in the noises around them. “Oh, but I should,” she responded, stepping backward. “I should scare you.” She grinned and waved at him before disappearing.

“Alex, don’t!” Steph said when Alex started chasing after her.

Alex stopped and looked back at her. “You got your voice back?” he asked, walking over to her.

Steph nodded. “The Ringmaster gave it back,” she said, reaching out and gripping his arms. Her grip felt strange; Alex could see that she was clinging to him hard, but it felt like she was just brushing her fingers against him. “Please. Don’t go after her.”

“I have to,” Alex said.

“Alexander,” the Ringmaster said. “Remember what I—”

But Alex ignored him and, after kissing Steph one more time, tugged away from her and ran deeper into the fairground. Alex didn’t care what the Ringmaster had to say; she had hurt Steph, had threatened Steph—this was his fight. Behind him, he heard the Ringmaster curse in Russian, but Alex didn’t stop to think about the implications. After all, lots of people could speak Russian.

_You really don’t want to admit it, do you?_ a voice whispered in his ear, but Alex ignored it too, weaving his way through the crowds. The deeper Alex went, the thinner they became and he swallowed, feeling something knot in his throat.

Alex walked passed a test-your-strength booth and the strongman called, “Step up and test your luck, sir!”

“I don’t have anything to prove,” Alex said, looking at the prizes hanging from the rack and the weight sitting against a plank with different levels scrawled on it.

“Aw, come now.” the man asked. “You don’t want people to think you’re a girl do you?” He offered Alex the dull green hammer with a smirk.

Alex gritted his teeth and snatched the hammer from the man. “Fine,” he growled, hefting the hammer as he moved into position; his arms protested the weight, his ribs ached, and his lungs burned—where had his strength gone? He should be able to lift this hammer!

Alex ignored it all. _That’s what I get for running in my binder,_ he thought grimly as he brought it down as hard as he could.

The weight shot up and stopped at, “Better luck next time, little lady!” only six inches off the weight.

As he read the words, Alex thought he heard the laughter of the girl with the green eyes while the man said, “Ah, well. Care to try again?”

Eyes narrowing, Alex tried to lift the hammer once more, but this time he managed to lift it no more than a couple of inches before his strength gave out. It fell, but this time the weight barely moved; it didn’t even reach the first label, barely going up two inches.

The man bursted laughter, the girl echoing him. “Better luck next time, sonny!” he cried as Alex stumbled backward.

_What’s happening?_ he thought, staring down at his trembling hands. _I’m stronger than that, I know I am! Why… why couldn’t I lift that hammer more?_

The teenager appeared in front of him and she smirked; he hadn’t even noticed she was there. “What’s the matter, Alex?” she cooed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Having a little trouble proving you’re a man?”

Alex lunged toward her, but she danced backward before disappearing—literally disappearing into thin air as if she had never been there. He cursed and spun around. “Where are you?” he shouted.

A building stood in front of Alex, black with fading gold and silver swirls painted on it. A sign that said, “The Hall of Mirrors” hung above a purple curtain, the end of the curtain beginning to rip and fall apart. It had clearly seen better days.

A sense of dread began building in the pit of his stomach as Alex walked toward the building. He climbed the metal stairs and stopped in front of the curtain. It seemed so innocent but something inside him told him otherwise. _If you go in there, you may never come out,_ a voice whispered in his head, his subconscious talking to him. Ignoring the voice, Alex pushed the sheet of cloth aside and came face to face with a mirror.

Alex paused, staring at his reflection. He looked paler, hazel eyes wide and brighter in his face. His cheeks seemed softer, fuller than they should be. The lines of his chin and jaw weren’t as sharp. With a jolt of recognition, Alex realized it wasn’t his face.

It was Sasha’s before starting testosterone.

Unbidden, Alex’s hands moved, feeling the plains of his face. It felt normal, sharper lines and less padding on his cheeks. In the mirror, the reflection copied him, tracing a different face while eyes that weren’t his own stared out at him. They didn’t reflect the panic causing Alex’s heart to pound faster and his eyes didn’t look right. The reflection’s eyes were turning green as he watched.

“Admiring the view?” The girl appeared behind Alex, her face over his shoulder. She stared at him in the mirror. “You know, this is the first time we’ve been alone.”

Alex turned and took a step away from her. “Who are you?” he said, lifting his chin.

The girl lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “You know who I am,” she said, stepping closer to A;ex. She lifted her hand and pressed it against his chest, pink-painted nails digging into his shirt. She made a face. “I see you’re still wearing those ridiculous things.” She reached down, tugging up the hem of his shirt before he could stop her.

She stared at the nylon and spandex covering Alex’s chest. She reached out, fingers brushing against the shapes under the fabric. The touch caused him to jerk into motion, pushing her away. She stumbled backward, catching herself on the rail before she could fall.

“Don’t touch me!” Alex snapped, shoving his shirt back into place. “Who gave you the right—”

“Still wearing those things,” the girl said, cutting Alex off and shaking her head. “How’s your breathing, Alex? A little difficult from all that running? Do your ribs ache?”

Alex ignored his sudden lack of breath and aching chest. “That’s what happens when you run in a binder,” he said, trying to calm down. What in the world was happening? “Who are you?” He pressed back against the mirror, feeling the cold surface against his palms.

The girl smiled. “Make it through your memories and maybe you’ll find out,” she said. “I’ll be waiting, Alex.”

“Wha—”

The mirror behind Alex spun suddenly, causing him to lose sight of the girl. He found himself facing a large black room with mirrors randomly placed within it. Some were clustered together tightly, some of the the surfaces covering each other. Some stood on their own, surrounded only by the vast space. Others faced each other, reflecting endlessly.

Taking a deep breath, Alex stepped forward and began to walk through the mirrors. He moved slowly, still trying to catch his breath. He knew he should take off his binder, but he couldn’t bring himself to. “Make it through your memories?” he repeated, looking around. “What did she mean by that? I've gotta get out of here. There’s nothing here except for mi—”

As Alex walked by, something appeared in two of the mirrors. The one on the left showed a little girl sitting in front of a vanity as a blonde girl stood behind her brushing her hair. The one on the right showed a younger Alex, fiddling with a tie as Mark stood at his shoulder.

“I don’t like pigtails,” the little girl complained and Alex watched her try to wiggle away from the blonde.

The blonde girl pulled her hair, causing the younger girl to yelp. “Sit still,” she ordered. “Mom wants you to look presentable and that means pigtails.”

“No, Alex,” Mark’s voice said from behind him. “Do it like this. Give it a little more slack.”

No matter how much Alex wanted to turn toward Mark, he found himself stuck, unable to look away from the girls. From… Jess and Sasha.

“Dad said I can have my hair down,” Sasha said, pulling away from Jess. Alex felt a slight tugging at his scalp as she did, like someone had begun to pull his own hair. He reached up, feeling his head, but there was nothing there. In the mirror, Sasha had stood up and put her hands on her hips, staring mutinously at her sister.

“It’s hard,” the younger Alex complained, voice cracking. “I’m never gonna get it.”

“Yeah you will,” Mark said. “It just takes practice. C’mon, one more time, Lex.”

“Come on, quit playing around,” Jess said. “Think about what Mom wants, not Dad. Besides, don’t you want to look pretty tonight?”

Sasha scowled. “Pigtails aren’t pretty,” she said.

“I did it!” the younger Alex exclaimed from behind him.

“Girls?” a woman’s voice called. “Is everything alright in there?”

“Mark? Alex?” Jess’ voice called. “Are you ready? The rehearsal can’t start without the groom and the groomsman.”

The image in front of Alex disappeared and a glance behind him confirmed the other had too. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, looking around. But there was nothing but mirrors reflecting himself. He shook his head and kept walking, skirting around the mirrors. He really didn’t want to see anything else.

“Sasha!” a voice shouted and Alex froze. “Get back here this instant and put this on!” His mother walked into one of the mirrors, her blonde hair pulled off her neck. She wore a blue evening gown, another dress over her arm.

“No!” Sasha shouted and Alex turned to see her standing in another mirror, arms across her chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Sasha, you’re going to make us late,” she said. “Come over here and put your dress on! Why can’t you be more like your sister? Jess is already ready; we’re just waiting on you.”

“I don’t like dresses,” Sasha said, shaking her head. “I wanna wear a suit like Daddy.”

His mother sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s either the dress or you don’t come,” she snapped.

Sasha seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Then I’m staying home!”

His mother moved forward and suddenly appeared in the same mirror as Sasha. She gripped her arm and Alex felt something dig into his arm as well. “You can’t stay home,” she hissed, dragging Sasha out of sight.

Alex kept walking, trying to collect his thoughts. He knew what these were, that teenaged girl had all but said what they were. But Alex couldn’t believe that. He had to be imagining these things.

He felt something warm and wet sliding down the inside of his thighs. Alex’s eyes widened and he stopped walking, staring down at his crotch. “No,” he whispered, putting a hand down his pants. He touched something sticky and when he pulled his hand out, red stained his fingers.

“No! No, no, no,” Alex said, shaking his head. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be—” He stopped talking when he turned and saw his reflection in a mirror. An older Sasha stared back at him, her eyes wide. Her underpants were around her ankles, the crotch stained red. She stood in a bathroom with cream and powder blue tile on the floor and lilac walls—a very familiar bathroom.

Someone knocked on the door and she turned to look at it, a panicked expression on her face. “Sinok? Kiddo? Is everything okay in there?” a familiar voice asked.

“I’m fine, Papochka,” Sasha said and Alex felt his mouth move as she spoke.

“Are you sure?” the man— _That’s my dad. There’s nobody else it could be._ —asked. “You’ve been in there for a while. Your mother’s worried.”

The doorknob started to turn and Sasha shrieked. “Don’t come in!” she wailed. “I’m fine, Dad, I promise! I don’t need you or Mom! I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay!”

“That just makes me worry more,” he said and the door opened. She tugged her skirt down, trying to cover the blood sliding down her thighs. Her father poked his head in and Alex swallowed when he saw his father’s face. He looked younger and there were less lines, but it was Alex’s father.

His father’s eyes landed on the bloodstained underwear and he sighed. “Oh, Sasha,” he said, walking over to her. She tried to scoot away, but he just put his big hands on her shoulders and hugged her. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“Honey? Sasha? What’s going on?” a female said and Alex watched as a blonde woman— _Mom._ —looked into the room. She gasped when she saw the bloody underwear and then she beamed. “Oh Sasha! Congratulations! You’re finally on your way to becoming a woman! Jess and I have been waiting for this day.”

The mirror in front of Alex went black before reflecting his own face again. He looked down and saw the blood on his fingers disappeared too. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself. “That doesn’t happen anymore,” he whispered, staring at his crotch. He couldn’t see the shape of his packer under the layers of denim. With a shaking hand, he unzipped his pants and tugged them and his briefs away from his body. Alex stared down at his packer, thankful it was still tucked against his body. He reached down and felt the familiar shaft, the lines and bumps before pulling his hand away and zipping his pants up. He needed the reassurance that everything was where it was supposed to be. “That will never happen again.”

“Never say never,” the girl said and Alex looked up to see her in front of him again. Her body seemed more solid than the last time he’d seen her. She smiled. “Did you enjoy that trip down memory lane, Alex? That’s the day when you turned against your mother, isn’t it?”

“You mean that’s the day my mother turned against me,” Alex replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Why are you doing this? What do you have to gain from it?”

She grinned and walked over to Alex. “Control,” the girl responded, reaching out and stroking his cheek. Her nails brushed against his skin and he scowled, pulling his head away. “I will finally have control. Control I should have had for years.”

“Who are you?” Alex asked, ignoring the twisting in his guts.

“You already know,” the girl whispered before pulling away from him. “Pathetic little boy, you just won’t admit it.” She leaned back against the mirror and it seemed to open around her, allowing her to sink beneath the glass surface. “You know who I am and you know that you know.” She wiggled her fingers at him before disappearing. “Better keep walking, Alex.”

Alex scowled and took a deep breath. If he kept walking, maybe he could find the owner of this place in here. It was worth a shot.

“Wow. You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

Alex turned to see the Ringmaster beside him, leaning against one of the mirrors. He tipped his silky black top hat at him, but he didn’t smile. “What are you talking about?” Alex asked.

“You’re pretty stupid, you know,” the Ringmaster said, tapping his cane against the floor. The taptaptap echoed through the blackness around them. “Following her into this place.” He pushed his wire-framed glasses up on his nose.

“I thought you were the Ringmaster, though,” Alex said. “Aren’t you supposed to keep me safe or something?”

The Ringmaster shook his head. “I could when you were out there,” he said, waving back toward where Alex had come. “I actually have control there; it’s my domain. But she has claimed this as her own and my power is… limited here. I can’t do as much here as I would like to.”

“Why is she doing this?” Alex demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

He tipped his head to the side and stared at Alex with serious brown eyes. “Because this is life or death, Alex,” the Ringmaster said. “And I told you that back in the beginning but you seem to have forgotten. Do you remember those weird dizzy spells you felt? They were—”

“You’re not allowed to be here,” the girl snapped. She stood in front of a mirror a few feet away from them, arms crossed over her chest. She scowled in their direction and for a moment, her body flickered. “It’s not your turn to play with him. You had your chance.”

The Ringmaster turned to her, hand dropping from his face. “This is my show,” he reminded her, stepping away from Alex and in her direction. “Which means I’m allowed to do anything I need in order to make sure the owner makes it out. And the way you’ve been… playing makes me think that won’t happen.”

The girl walked forward and pushed the Ringmaster. “It’s my show now!” she snapped as he fell against a mirror. “And I don’t want you here anymore.” The mirror swallowed the Ringmaster, trapping him behind the glass.

The Ringmaster just smiled and tipped his hat to the girl. “Darling, this was never your show,” he said as a woman appeared behind him. A dark arm wrapped around the Ringmaster’s shoulders, warm brown eyes staring out at Alex and the girl. The Ringmaster turned toward her as the mirror became black.

“What did you do to him?” Alex demanded, turning to the girl.

She smiled. “Nothing… yet,” she said. “But you’re not cooperating and I think it’s time to… kick it up a notch.” She sauntered toward him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t worry.”

And, with that, she shoved Alex hard against a mirror. Before he could speak, the mirror became liquid, causing him to sink below the surface. He could hear her laughing as his vision clouded over with black.

When he could see again, Alex stood in the middle of a bridal store. He looked down at myself and saw he wore tighter jeans than usual and a pale blue polo shirt. He didn’t have his binder on, that much was clear by the size and unhindered rise and fall of his chest.

“C’mon, honey,” Alex’s mother said as she appeared beside his. “We need to look at bridesmaid dresses. Jess still doesn’t know what she wants, so we might as well just look around to see if there’s a style you look good in. Clearly you can’t look better than Jess, but we can get you something that’s flattering.”

Alex eyes widened as she took his wrist and tugged him toward the evening gowns. “Mom, Jess said I could wear a suit,” he said, nodding over to the suits. “Why can’t we—”

“Jess would never let you wear a suit to her wedding,” Alex’s mother snapped, stopping in front of a rack of blue dresses. She started looking through them, humming. “And if she said she would, she was just being silly, dear. Here, what about this one?”

She held up a navy blue dress made of silk with an over layer of white satin and netting. She pressed it against Alex’s body and he frowned as the netting scratched against his skin. “These colors suit you,” his mother said, tapping her finger against her chin. “But I think a red will make your eyes pop more.”

She put the dress away and moved down the rack. This time, she held up a red satin dress with a flared skirt and black tulle accents. “Ooh, look at this one,” she said. “And it looks like it’ll be in your size. We’ll have to go pick up some make up that’ll go with this and heaven knows you’ll need a new bra. I don’t understand why you keep insisting on wearing those ghastly sports bras. They don’t do anything but make you flat.”

“That’s the point, Mom,” Alex said, trying to scoot away from the satin and tulle dress. His skin crawled at the mere thought of wearing it.

His mother ignored him and began dragging him toward the fitting rooms.

The attendant smiled when they walked up. “How may I help you?” she asked.

“Yes, we’d like to use a fitting room. My daug—”

That was the breaking point.

“I’m not,” Alex snapped, causing his mother to pause and the attendant to stare.

“Excuse me?” his mother said softly, looking back at him. The clerk shuffled away, not wanting to get caught between the two of them. He swallowed; he’d started this so he’d better finish it.

“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you won’t listen to me,” Alex said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m not going to be a bridesmaid: I’m one of Mark’s groomsmen. I’m not your daughter; I’m your son. I’ve always been your son.”

His mother turned to fully face him, the dress dangling from her grip. “What on earth are you talking about, Alexandra?” she asked and Alex winced, stumbling back a step. “I was there when you were born; I was there when you got your first period, when you went through puberty. You’re my daughter; I don’t have a son.”

Alex took a deep breath; his mom was finally listening to him, he could finally tell her the truth. “Yes, you do,” he said softly. “I’m your son. I was never your daughter; just because my body’s female doesn’t mean I am. Dad said—”

“Your father has been filling your head with lies,” his mother snapped, reaching out and taking Alex by the arms. She held him tightly, nails digging into his skin. “Your father doesn’t know anything. You’re my daughter, my little girl, my Sasha. You just need to start acting and dressing like a girl and then you’ll understand. And the first step is being Jess’ bridesmaid.”

Alex shook his head. “Dad hasn’t done anything but listen to me,” he said and the grip on his upper arm tightened. “He’s listened to me and believed me when you’ve—”

He didn’t see it coming. One moment, his mother was gripping both of his arms and then one of her hands was flying toward him. Alex didn’t even have time to blink.

Her hand smacked into his cheek, causing his head to jerk to the side. Alex tasted iron and realized he’d cut his cheek on his teeth. His hand came up, cradling his face, the skin radiating heat. He stared at his mother with wide eyes, fighting the urge to cry; she’d never hit him before. “Mom…?” Alex whispered.

“We’re going home, Alexandra,” his mother said, breathing heavily. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the exit. “It seems I need to have a long overdue conversation with your father. That man has gone too far this time.”

_No, you don’t understand. Dad was just supporting me. None of this was his fault._ Alex longed to say those words, but they got caught behind his teeth. He remained quiet as he let her pull him away. He could feel eyes on them and their gazes caused him cheeks to burn with a flush. Why? What’s different about this time? Is it because he actually told her the truth?

Alex remembered that the car ride back was silent. Every time he tried to open his mouth, his mother would glare at him and he would shut it, his teeth clicking together. He didn’t know what to say, didn't know how to respond to what was happening. Alex knew his mother didn’t believe him, but he didn’t think she could have gone that far, to actually slap him.

When they returned home, she sent Alex up to his room without another word, settling herself down on the couch with a glass of scotch, no doubt waiting for his father to come home. Alex scurried away, not wanting to be around when the shouting began.

“— stole my daughter from me!”

“He was never your daughter. He was always your son! Our son! You’re being irrational!”

“Irrational! You’ve been poisoning her thoughts! You made her into this! That isn’t my baby girl! You destroyed her!”

Alex could hear their screams from his room upstairs. He curled himself into a tight ball, letting their screams wash over him, and finally let himself cry. He felt his phone buzzing almost constantly in his pocket, but he didn’t reach for it. Steph could wait.

“—a divorce!” Alex’s mother screamed before the front door slammed.

“This is all my fault,” Alex whispered, staring at the wall. “Why couldn’t I be normal? I wish I was normal. I wish I had never been born. This is all my fault.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” the girl said and Alex sat up slowly when she appeared in front of his mirror, arms crossed over her chest. She was a transparent image, staring at him; he could see the outline of the closet behind her. “It’s your fault my parents got a divorce, your fault my mother hates my father. If you’d never been born, none of this would’ve happened. I would be happy and loved and everything would be perfect. But no. You were born and, because of you, all of this happened. This is all your fault!” As she spoke, her body became solid until he couldn’t see through her anymore.

“I know who you are,” Alex said before he could stop himself.

The girl raised a delicate eyebrow. “Oh, you do?” she asked. “Then who am I?”

“Lexi.” The word hung in the air between them for a moment—the name his mother had called me before he asked her to call him Alex. “You’re who I could have become if I hadn’t been told everything would be okay if I was honest with myself and everyone else. You’re who Sasha almost became.”

Lexi scowled. “I’m supposed to be real, not you,” she said, shaking her head. She began to pace around Alex’s room, looking from one wall to the next. “You should be locked up like I’ve been for the past thirteen years. I only just got free, because you were stupid enough to come here. I should be the one in control, but that’s all about to change soon.”

Alex stood up, ignoring the shakiness of his legs. “What do you mean?” he demanded, a sudden fear rushing over him. “What do you mean you’re going to be the one in control?”

Lexi grinned suddenly. “Oh, you haven’t figure it out yet,” she breathed before laughing. “You stupid creature. Do you know where we are?”

“My bedroom,” Alex responded immediately, reaching out and touching the bed. It felt real and solid beneath his fingers.

“No, you dumbass,” Lexi said, shaking her head. “Ah well, if you haven’t figured it out, I won’t tell you. I will say this though: when all this is over, your body will be mine.”

“What?!”

Lexi walked toward Alex and, as she did, the bedroom disappeared, leaving them in a room empty except for a mirror leaning against the wall. “You and I are the same person,” she said, looking at him. “You know that already. But, what you don’t know is that I’ve become strong enough to take over. I will become the real one again and you’ll have to stare at me through the mirror, watching as I become myself again.”

“That’s not possible,” Alex said. “This is just a dream. You can’t—”

“I can’t?” Lexi repeated. “Look down at your hands, Alex.”

Alex’s gaze dropped to his hands and he gasped. His hands had become transparent, enough that he could see the carpeted floor beneath him. “What did you do to me?” he demanded, looking up at her.

“You did this to yourself,” Lexi said softly. “Do you remember all those times you felt angry or sad while you were here? All those moments of hatred toward Sasha? Those feelings fed me and weakened you; made me more solid while you became more and more insubstantial like I was in the beginning. Soon, our places will be switched and I’ll have finished what Sasha should have started years ago. But, to make sure that happens, I have to do one thing.”

She reached out and shoved Alex toward the mirror. He fell headlong into it, lifting his arms to protect his head. He tumbled head over heels down a tunnel of black. Eventually, he found himself slowing down and he landed on his feet in a very familiar kitchen.

Alex recognized the pale blue tiles on the wall, the countertop made of gray granite, and the floor. All the appliances were white, even the toaster and blender tucked under one of the wooden cabinets. A calendar with his mother’s scrawl hung on the refrigerator—as Alex moved closer, he saw the 19th circled and the words _Jess’ Wedding!_ written in black, along with things like _Alex’s field trip_ and _College applications due_ in his own handwriting. The calendar was surrounded by photographs of Alex, Jess, Mark and his mother, paintings Jess and Alex had done as children but could never get their mother to remove, and other assorted papers like bills and letters wallpapered both doors. His father had been hidden in all the photographs.

 

“No,” Alex said as he found himself walking toward the middle drawer next to the stove, where his mother kept all the knives. He tried to stop himself, but he just kept moving even though he didn’t want to at all. With one hand, Alex opened the drawer and pulled out the largest knife while his other hand lifted up his shirt and binder to bare his breasts. The nylon and spandex dug into his upper chest, shortening his breath. He felt a shudder of revulsion rush down his spine as he stared at them; he hated them, they needed to be gone.

“I won’t let you do this, Lexi!” Alex said as his hand brought the knife up to the underside of his breast. The edge of the knife teased against his skin but didn’t press in… yet.

“Why not?” Lexi’s voice asked, echoing around him. “I thought you didn’t want them anymore. Didn’t you just think that? All I’m trying to do it help you get what you want.”

The knife pressed against Alex’s skin and he felt pain as blood began to slide down his torso. “I don’t want this,” Alex said as the pain intensified. His hand began to move, actively cutting instead of passively pressing in. He refused to look down, refused to acknowledge exactly what was happening to him. This is just a dream, he chanted in his mind. This is just a dream. None of this is real. This is just a dream. None of this is real.

“Oh, but Alex,” Lexi said and she was suddenly right next to him, her hand over his on the handle of the knife. “This is real. Don’t you remember? You already did this.”

Alex shook his head, biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from screaming. If he did, Mark and Jess would come running and that couldn’t happen. They couldn’t see what he was doing. They would try to stop him and Alex had to do this. His hand kept moving and it was wet, the blood dripping onto the floor. They had to go away.

“Yes, they do,” Lexi whispered in Alex’s ear as he felt himself getting lightheaded. He couldn’t tell what it was from: the pain or the blood loss. All he knew was that everything hurt but he had to keep going. He was almost done and then…

And then what? Mark and Jess would find him and take him to the hospital. Or worse his mother would find him and then he would be in so much trouble But… wait. Alex’s mother didn’t live with him anymore. And Mark and Jess lived in New York near his dad.

“You’re not real,” Alex whispered as the hilt of the knife began to slip.

“Excuse me?” Lexi said. “Of course I’m real. Don’t you remember me, Alex? I’m you.”

Alex shook his head as the knife slipped from his fingers, slick with blood, and fell to the floor. “No, you’re not,” he said, fighting the pain threatening to overwhelm him. Why had he thought this would be a good idea? Except….

Alex raised his hand and pressed it to his chest, ignoring the blood that covered his fingers. No, they were still there. Soft and round and despised, but still there.

Alex opened his eyes and looked down at himself. There was no blood, just the knife lying at his feet as clean as before. His shirt and binder were down and Alex pressed his hands against his body. He hadn’t done anything; it was just an illusion.

Alex turned, and as he did, the kitchen disappeared, revealing the black room with the mirrors again. Lexi stood behind him, looking as solid as ever, one arm crossed over her chest. “You were so close to losing yourself,” she mused, tapping her cheek with a finger. “Just a little more and you would’ve lost yourself in the illusion. What pulled you back?”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “All I know is that I didn’t do anything to myself, no matter how much I wanted to and how much you wanted me to believe I did. I wouldn’t have done that.”

Lexi hummed and moved toward Alex, circling him. “A pity,” she said. “It would’ve been so much easier if you’d just lost yourself to the illusion. Then I wouldn’t have to resort to such… drastic measures.”

Alex scoffed and shook his head. “And making me think I’d cut off my breasts isn’t drastic?” he asked, watching her carefully.

Lexi smirked. “Oh, not nearly,” she replied, stopping in front of him. “There are so many other things I could do to you… I just have to decide on one. You’re in my world now, Alex. There’s nothing you can do to pull yourself out of it. I mean, look at you. You’re becoming as transparent as I was. Soon, I’ll be the real one and I’ll be able to leave this place.” She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders. “And I know just what to do.” She shoved Alex back and he stumbled through the surface of a mirror.

Alex stared out at her, pressing his hands against the glass in front of him. “You’re me, Lexi!” he said, slamming his fist against the glass. Even as he watched, his hand started to get more transparent; soon, they wouldn’t be there anymore.

“What’s your point?” Lexi asked, stepping closer to the mirror.

Alex narrowed his eyes, trying to remember what the Ringmaster told him. It had been important, but it felt like he’d heard it years ago instead of hours. What had he said? “C’mon, Alex, think,” he muttered

“Don’t lose yourself, Alex. It’s so easy to get lost in the what-ifs and could-have-beens, but you can’t let that happen. Don’t let yourself get lost. If you get lost, you’ll never come out again,” the Ringmaster's voice echoed around Alex and, for a moment, Lexi looked scared.

“This is what you meant, isn’t it?” Alex whispered as he caught sight of the Ringmaster out of the corner of his eye. The Ringmaster grinned at him from a mirror behind Lexi. He tipped his hat to Alex before disappearing, leaving his reflection staring back at him. “I think I understand now.”

“Understand what?” Lexi sneered but Alex could hear the tremor in her voice. “You don’t know up from down, left from right. You’ll never get out of my world. Look at you; you’re my reflection now!”

“This isn’t your world,” he said.

“What did you say?” Lexi demanded.

“It’s not yours,” Alex said, staring out at Lexi through the glass pane. That’s what the Ringmaster meant. Everything began piecing itself together and an image began to form in his head, one he hadn’t wanted to admit existed. “The Ringmaster doesn’t own it either. He’s just that, the ringmaster, the one who keeps the show running. It’s not his carnival. It’s mine.”

“There you go,” the Ringmaster’s voice whispered in his ear as Alex stepped through the mirror before him. The glass parted like water, the cool liquid washing over him before he was met with a rush of air. Lexi stumbled back as Alex stepped toward her, the mirror shattering behind him. Glass shards flew passed him, falling to the ground with a quiet clatter.

Lexi swallowed. “So you figured it out,” she sneered, trying to regain control of the situation. She crossed her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t change anything. You can’t get out. You’re stuck here until the day you die because you gave in to me. I’m the real one now; the body is mine. You saw me get rid of the Ringmaster. I’m the one with the power.”

Alex shook his head. “You didn’t do anything he didn’t let you do,” he said. “You’re powerless.”

Lexi smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I’m powerless, you say?” she asked. “I’ll show you how powerless I am!” She held her hand up and a ball of light appeared in her hand. Alex could see images in it like a silent movie. She threw it at him and when it hit his chest, he became enveloped by the images. No, they weren’t images. They were memories.

Alex sat in a child’s classroom, suddenly younger. The teacher stood in the front of the room, smiling at them all. “Alright, boys on the left side of the classroom and girls on the right side,” she said and all the kids—they didn’t look older than seven—followed her instructions. When he started moving to the left, his teacher put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the right side. “No, Alex. You need to be on the right side with the other girls.”

Alex shook his head, forcing the memory out of his head. “Two can play at that game, Lexi,” he said, holding out his hand. He closed my eyes and focused. If this was his world, Alex could do whatever Lexi did. When he opened his eyes, a similar ball of light had appeared in his grip. Alex’s head ached from the strain of summoning it, but he had done it. HE smiled and threw it toward her, already getting the next one ready.

Alex was sixteen and sitting at the kitchen table, poking at the pancakes his father had made. “Alex, is something wrong?” his father asked, sitting down across from him. When he shrugged, his father smiled. “Keep your chin up, son. It’ll get better.” The word “son” echoed in his head.

Lexi stumbled backward and her body flickered. “Aha yes,” she said, her green eyes cold. “The first time Daddy dearest called you ‘son’ and lied to you.” She flung another ball at Alex, smirking as he stumbled backward when it hit.

“Please, listen to me!”

“No! You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying,” Jess snapped, staring down at him. “You’re my sister. You’ve been my sister, and you’ll never be anything but my sister! So stop it! I won’t use those pronouns. I won’t!”

Alex sucked in a sharp breath. “You want to use Jess against me?” he asked, throwing the ball in his hand at her. “What about this?”

Mark stood in front of him, frowning. “You want me to do what?” he asked. “I didn’t think you’d ask me, Alex.” There was silence for a moment before Mark grinned. “You don’t need to, though. Of course I’ll help. C’mon, let’s go to the mall. You need some new clothing that fits you better than our old hand-me-downs.”

“Why are you helping me?” Alex asked.

Mark grinned. “You’re like the little brother I never had, Alex,” he replied, the phrase dropping easily from his lips.

A mirror shattered between them, covering the floor with shards and reflecting Lexi and Alex back at themselves. “You think you have power,” Lexi sneered. “You think you can change the end of this story?” Balls of memory appeared in Lexi’s hands, ready to be thrown at him.

“I know I can,” Alex said, mimicking her movements. “It’s my story.”

Lexi threw another ball and it exploded against his chest. The memory of being shoved out of the men’s locker room surrounded him, the word, “Tranny!” bouncing around him. Alex felt their hands shoving at him, but it didn’t stop him from slinging his own memory back at her: the memory of giving himself a shot of T for the first time, of the sharp prick of the needle and the strange sensation of liquid being pushed straight into his muscle. The strength of the memory, of the sense that things were finally going right, caused Lexi to stumble as a mirror shattered beside her.

“That was the first step,” Alex said as Lexi straightened. “When I finally started feeling like who I’m supposed to be.”

Lexi didn’t respond, instead lobbing another ball at him. In it, Alex stared down at his bare chest and at his growing breasts, which didn’t disappear no matter how much he wanted them to. “Do you remember that, Alex? When your breasts started growing?” she demanded.

“I do,” Alex responded. “And I remember this too!” The memory of wearing a binder for the first time, of being able to look at his silhouette and be pleased with what he saw, of the gentle squeeze around his ribs, struck Lexi and she gasped for breath.

They continued flinging memories back and forth. Every time one of Alex’s hit, another mirror shattered and Lexi continued to become transparent. Lexi’s memories got weaker until Alex could all but brush them off. He felt stronger, more sure of himself as he stared at the wavering Lexi.

“Take a look at this!” Alex snarled, lobbing three balls toward Lexi at once. They exploded in front of her and the memories appeared in front of her one at a time.

First it was Mark, standing with his hands in his pockets and grinning. He looked younger, like he did in high school, wearing his letterman jacket and a cocky grin. “Thanks for telling me, Lex. It is okay that I call you that, right?” he asked. Another mirror shattered by Lexi, showering her with fragments; all of them fell through her.

Alex’s father appeared next, kneeling down. He took off his reading glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. “If you say you’re a boy, you’re a boy,” he said, smiling. “Alex. I love you. I don’t care if you’re a boy or a girl or purple or a dinosaur. You’re my kid and I will love you no matter what.”

Jess appeared last, wearing her engagement ring and twisting it on her finger. “I wanted to apologize, Alex,” she said to her feet. “I didn’t realize that I was hurting you when I refused to use your pronouns. Mark helped me find stuff online about trans kids whose families didn’t believe them and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, little brother. I was scared, but I know better now. You’re my brother and I love you.”

Lexi raised her hands to cover her face as two mirrors shattered consecutively, showering her once more. She straightened and scowled at Alex. “They might accept you,” she said, forming another memory in her hand. “But what about this?”

She threw the memory at Alex and it landed in front of him, taking shape of his mother. She stared at Alex with cool green eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. “You can’t honestly expect me to take you seriously,” she said and the words cut, even now. “I gave birth to you. I know you better than you do. You’re my daughter and whoever said you were a boy is wrong. You will never be anything but my daughter. I can’t, won’t, accept this.”

The image faded and Alex closed his eyes, fighting back the tears he felt. He wanted his mother to accept him but it seemed impossible. He clenched his fist before raising it. “You’re right. My mother doesn’t accept me,” he said. “But do you know who does accept me?”

“That bitch Stephanie?” Lexi asked, cocky and sure.

“Not just Steph. But me,” Alex said, opening his eyes and throwing one last memory at Lexi. It shone brightly like a miniature sun as it soared through the air, striking Lexi right in the chest.

An image of Alex appeared in front of them and he turned, facing the real Alex. He stared at Alex as if looking in a mirror and he nodded to himself. “Yeah. That’s me,” he said, running a hand down his chest and looking at his face. “This is who I am. And I’m happy with it.”

The force of the memory sent Lexi flying backward. She landed against the mirror hard, her palms beginning to sink into the glass. “You can’t do anything to me,” she said. “Whether you like it or not, I’m a part of you. You kill me and—”

“Kill you?” Alex repeated, walking toward her. “I wouldn’t kill you. You’re a part of me.” The words rang in his ears and for the first time, Alex realized how true they were. “Maybe I’m not the proudest of you, but you’re like Sasha: part of my past. I can’t do anything to you any more than I could do something to Sasha. I just need to say something to you.”

“What?” Lexi demanded. “What could you possible say to me?”

Alex watched her for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said and her eyes widened. As Alex watched, her eyes seemed to flicker between green and brown. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done and I hope you can forgive me. I was so afraid of you, of femininity, that I tried to forget you. I shouldn’t have done that and I know that now. That’s what gave you power, isn’t it? My fear that I would become you.”

Lexi gave a little nod. “You were already afraid of me,” she whispered. “I could do whatever I wanted to you because you were so scared.”

Alex reached out and she flinched back, pressing herself against the mirror more. “I’m not scared of you anymore,” he told her. “I’m sorry for what I did.” Alex stood there, arms spread, waiting for her to come to him.

Lexi looked unsure but she leaned forward, allowing Alex to hug her. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear before she stepped away from his arms. She smiled at him before leaning back into the mirror. She fell through it until she became his reflection. She raised a hand and waved at him before she faded away completely, all the mirrors around Alex shattering at she did.

The sound of clapping came from behind him. “Well done, Alex,” the Ringmaster said.

Alex turned and the black room disappeared, leaving him standing in the center of the bigtop. A large ball rolled passed him, heading toward one of the aisles, and from outside he could hear the babble of a crowd. Nobody sat in the bleachers around Alex and the Ringmaster leaned against one, grinning at him from the shadows.

“Is that it?” Alex asked. “Am I finished?”

The Ringmaster chuckled. “Not quite,” he said, shaking his head. “You discovered the truth behind Lexi. Now you need to figure out who I am.”

Alex stared at the Ringmaster, squinting. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, though deep down he thought he knew. “I… I have an idea.”

The Ringmaster stepped forward, tapping his cane against the ground. “Who am I?” he asked.

Alex looked at the Ringmaster, really looked at him for the first time. All the similarities between them jumped out at him, from the sable eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and the dark hair peeking out from under the brim of the top hat. The Ringmaster removed his gloves as Alex watched, revealing a golden wedding band that glinted under the light on his left hand. Once he saw it, he couldn’t stop staring.

“I know you who are,” Alex said, staring at the Ringmaster in awe.

The Ringmaster walked toward him, stopping when he’d stepped inside the center ring. “Who?” he asked, the butt of his cane on the ground.

Alex took a deep breath. “Sasha is who I was; Lexi is who I could have been,” he said. “You’re who I could become.”

As he spoke, the Ringmaster’s clothing melted away. Instead, he wore a pair of blue jeans and a well-worn sweater. He smiled as he walked toward me. “Congratulations,” he said.

“What do I call you?” Alex asked, watching the former Ringmaster.

“Lex,” he said. “You’re Alex and I’m not.”

He nodded. “Yes,” Alex agreed, taking a deep breath.

Lex watched Alex for a moment, a pensive look on his face. “So, tell me, Alex: did you learn what you needed to?” he asked, twisting the ring on his finger. “Or will we have to go through this song and dance again?”

He paused. Had he? Alex thought about Sasha, the little girl who struggled to be herself. He thought of himself when he was young and how hard he’d fought to be recognized, to be the person he truly was. He thought about Lexi and the memories he’d experienced with her. He felt different now. He breathed easier now, like a weight had been removed.

“I did, Lex,” Alex said, smiling at him.

Lex beamed. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’ll be all right, Alex. It won’t be easy, but you’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, turning toward the back of the tent. “I think it’s time to go home.” Ge looked back at Lex. “Thank you for everything. Really.”

Lex pushed him gently. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said as Alex walked away.

Alex reached the back curtain and turned around, looking at Lex one last time. Lex seemed at peace with himself, with all of him. Deep in his chest, Alex felt the same peace settle over himself. He knew who he was now. And I’m proud of that, he thought as a strong wind rushed over him, sending him flying backward through tent exit.

———

“Excuse me!”

Alex jerked upright and looked around. Somehow, he’d gotten from the bathroom back to his seat. The flight attendant stood next to him, a hand on the back of his seat. “Sorry, what?” Alex asked, looking up at her and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

She smiled politely at him. “We’re about to land,” she told him. “Please buckle your seatbelt and put your tray in the upright position.”

Alex did what he was told and leaned back. Everything seemed so real. He pulled his phone out and looked down at it. Steph’s face stared up at him as I checked the time. 4:30. Perfect.

Alex locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket, a sense of peace washing over him. He breathed out a soft sigh and stared out the window. Everything’s going to be just fine, Alex thought. A smile crossed his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


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